TYPES  IN  NEWMAN 


GILBE 


GARRAGHAN.SJ, 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO 


R 


PROSE   TYPES  IN    NEWMAN 


GILBERT   J.  GARRAGHAN,  S.  J. 


PROSE  TYPES  IN 

NEWMAN 


A  BOOK   OF   SELECTIONS 

FROM   THE    WRITINGS    OF 

JOHN   HENRY  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 


EDITED    BY 

GILBERT   J.   GARRAGHAN,  S.  J. 


ST.    LOUIS    UNIVERSITY 


NEW  YORK 

SCHWARTZ,  KIRWIN  &  FAUSS 


COPYRIGHT,  191 5,  BY 
SCHWARTZ,  KIRWIN  &  FAUSS 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

THE  selections  from  Cardinal  Newman  brought 
together  in  this  volume  are  meant  to  furnish  mate- 
rial for  the  study  of  the  so-called  forms  of  discourse 
or  recognized  types  of  literary  expression.  This 
study  has  come  to  have  a  place  of  importance  in  the 
English  course,  both  in  high  school  and  in  college, 
and  hence  any  method  that  will  help  to  make  it  prac- 
ticable as  a  class-room  exercise  has  a  claim  on  the 
English  teacher's  attention.  The  Questions  and 
Studies  accompanying  the  selections  emphasize  prin- 
ciples and  processes  in  the  literary  forms  as  such 
rather  than  characteristics  of  diction  and  style. 
These  latter  fall  outside  the  scope  of  the  criticism 
intended,  except  in  cases  where  they  bear  directly 
on  the  theory  of  the  type  under  study.  The  rhetori- 
cal study  of  the  five  recognized  types  of  composi- 
tion, as  illustrated  in  the  texts  herewith  presented, 
represents,  therefore,  the  primary  purpose  of  the 
volume.  At  the  same  time  the  selections  are  suffi- 
ciently diverse  in  content  and  style  to  give  the  stu- 
dent an  insight  into  the  varying  moods  of  a  great 
and  classic  prose. 


TO  THE  INSTRUCTOR 

1.  THE  first  legitimate  step  in  the  critical  study 
of  any  piece  of  literature  is  mastery  of  the  author's 
meaning.    Hence  the  meaning  of  the  text,  whenever 
in  doubt,  should  be  cleared  up  promptly  by  reflec- 
tion, class-room  discussion,  or  other  means. 

2.  A  word  as  to  the  Glossary  and  the  principle 
on  which   it  is   compiled.     Obviously  the  proper 
names  occurring  in  a  text  for  English  study  ought 
not  to  remain  merely  names,  without  any  sugges- 
tion to  the  student  of  the  realities  for  which  they 
stand.    On  the  other  hand,  to  put  the  student  thumb- 
ing books  of  reference  for  the  needed  information 
has  the  disadvantage,  to  say  nothing  of  the  time 
consumed  in  the  process,  of  distracting  him  from 
the  chief  purpose  of  his  study,  which  is  to  improve 
himself  in  English  and  not  to  acquire  special  infor- 
mation.   Hence  the  Glossary  aims  to  furnish  some 
little  information  in  regard  to  proper  names  and  al- 
lusions, thus  saving  the  student  time  and  labor  which 
can  be  spent  to  better  advantage  on  the  text  itself. 
And  here  it  may  be  noted  that  the   full  import 
of  names  is  often  lost  on  the  immature  student 
or  beginner  in  literature.     It  is  wide,  sympathetic 

vU 


Vlll  TO  THE   INSTRUCTOR 

reading  and,  perhaps,  experience  of  life  that  invest 
certain  names  with  their  true  significance ;  and  hence 
no  amount  of  encyclopedic  detail  heaped  around 
them  for  the  occasion  by  the  industrious  student  will 
enable  him  to  elicit  from  them  the  same  significance 
and  charm  which  they  convey  to  the  experienced 
reader. 

Nothing  of  what  has  just  been  said  is  to  be  inter- 
preted as  discounting  the  value  to  the  student  of  a 
habit  of  self-reliant  research.  To  be  able  to  use 
books  of  reference  with  intelligence  and  dispatch 
should  be  part  of  the  equipment  of  every  student, 
and  therefore  frequent  practice  both  in  and  outside 
the  class-room  calculated  to  develop  such  power  will 
not  be  overlooked  in  a  well-considered  curriculum. 

3.  The  Questions  and  Studies  bear  particularly 
on  the  principles  and  methods  of  the  five  character- 
istic literary  types.     Hence  preceding  the  several 
groups  of  extracts  will  be  found  summaries  of  prin- 
ciples and  definitions,  the  purpose  of  these  sum- 
maries being  to  furnish  the  student  with  a  compact 
critical  apparatus  for  ready  use.    The  Questions  and 
Studies,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  indicate  a 
method  of  study  rather  than  exhaust  even  remotely 
the  possibilities  of  criticism  as  regards  the  texts 
under  study.     Suggestive  in   character,  they  are 
meant  to  open  up  to  the  instructor  the  way  to  still 
further  questioning  and  analysis  along  similar  lines. 

4.  The  Topical  Analyses  (p.  217)  will  be  of  serv- 
ice for  an  occasional  review  of  rhetorical  principles 


TO   THE  INSTRUCTOR  IX 

or  for  a  systematic  study  of  these  principles  as  illus- 
trated in  one  or  more  of  the  selections. 

5.  Where  it  is  thought  better  to  emphasize  the 
general  elements  of  composition  rather  than  specific 
literary  types,  the  selections  may  be  studied  for  such 
particulars  as  choice  of  words,  sentence  and  para- 
graph structure,  characteristics  of  style,  etc.  A 
method  suitable  for  this  purpose  will  be  found  in 
Cardinal  Newman's  Literature,  edited  by  G.  J.  Gar- 
raghan,  SJ.  (Schwartz,  Kirwin  and  Fauss). 

An  asterisk  occurring  in  the  text  indicates  that 
the  name,  phrase,  or  quotation  so  marked  will  be 
found  in  the  Glossary.  Names  occurring  more  than 
once  are  starred  only  at  their  first  occurrence  in 
the  text. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

JOHN  HENRY  CARDINAL  NEWMAN,  1801-1890  .   .   .  xiii 

The  Forms  of  Discourse i 

SELECTIONS 

A.  NARRATION 2 

I.  The  Battle  of  Lepanto 5 

II.  He  Shall  not  Lose  his  Reward 10 

III.  Gurta  and  Juba 20 

IV.  The  Northmen  hi  England  and  Ireland    .    .  32 
V.  The  Death  of  St.  Bede 38 

B.  DESCRIPTION 43 

VI.  Attica 47 

VII.   Sicca  Veneria 51 

VHI.  The  Locust  Plague 58 

DC.  Jucundus  at  Supper 71 

X.  The  Conversion  of  England 83 

XI.  The  First  Synod  of  Westminster 86 

XH.   Callista's  Dream 90 

C.  EXPOSITION 95 

XIII.  The  Idea  of  God 99 

XIV.  The  Poetry  of  Monachism 107 

XV.  What  is  a  University  ? 113 

XVI.  The  Definition  of  a  Gentleman 121 

XVII.  Accuracy  of  Mind 126 

XVIII.  St.  Philip  Neri 131 

XIX.  The  Mass 138 

XX.  The  Lion  and  the  Painter 142 

xi 


XU  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

D.  ARGUMENTATION 147 

XXI.  Theology  a  Branch  of  Knowledge  ....  151 

XXII.  Intellectual  Culture  not  Mere  Knowledge  .  157 

XXIII.  The  Social  State  of  Catholic  Countries  no 

Prejudice  to  the  Sanctity  of  the  Church  171 

XXIV.  States  and  Constitutions 177 

XXV.   "  All  who  Take  Part  with  the  Apostle  are 

on  the  Winning  Side  " 185 

E.  PERSUASION 193 

XXVI.  An  Appeal  to  the  Laity 195 

XXVII.   Remembrance  of  Past  Mercies 202 

XXVIII.   God's  Will  the  End  of  Life 206 

XXIX.  The  Assumption 210 

XXX.  The  Parting  of  Friends 215 

TOPICAL  ANALYSES 217 

GLOSSARY  AND  NOTES   .  221 


JOHN  HENRY  CARDINAL  NEWMAN 
1801-1890 

1801  Born  in  the  city  of  London,  February  21,  his  parents 
being  John  Newman,  a  banker,  and  Jemima  Fou- 
drinier,  who  was  of  Huguenot  descent. 

1808    Attended  school  at  Ealing,  near  London. 

1815  Published  three  periodicals,  The  Spy,  The  Anti-Spy, 

and  The  Beholder,  the  last  running  through  forty 
numbers. 

1816  Matriculated  in  December  at  Trinity  College,  Ox- 

ford. 

1819  With  a  friend,  Mr.  Bowden,  brought  out  The  Un- 
dergraduate, a  periodical  patterned  after  Addison's 
Spectator. 

1821  Made  a  Fellow  of  Oriel,  April  12.  "The  turning- 
point  of  his  life  and  of  all  days  the  most  memor- 
able." 

1824  Ordained  in  the  Anglican  Church,  June  13,  and  be- 

came Curate  of  St.  Clement's,  Oxford,  where  he 
remained  two  years. 

1825  Appointed    Vice-Principal    of    Alban    Hall    by    his 

friend,  Dr.  Whately. 

1828  Made  Vicar  of  St.  Mary's,  the  University  Church, 
in  the  pulpit  of  which  he  preached  his  Parochial 
Sermons.  When  published  "  they  beat  all  other 
sermons  out  of  the  market,  as  Scott's  tales  beat 
all  other  stories." 

1832  Resigned  his  tutorship  at  Oriel  and  went  in  De- 
cember with  Hurrel  Froude  on  a  long  voyage 
around  the  Mediterranean.  Wrote  on  this  voyage 
xiii 


XIV  JOHN    HENRY    CARDINAL    NEWMAN 

eighty-five  poems  in  which  "  the  Tractarian  Move- 
ment .  .  .  sprang  forth  armed  in  lyrical  strains." 
This  "  sea-cycle "  includes  Lead,  Kindly  Light, 
written  while  Newman's  ship  lay  becalmed  for  a 
week  in  the  Straits  of  Bonifacio,  near  Sicily. 
Near  death's  door  with  fever  at  Castro  Giovanni, 
he  cried  out,  "  I  shall  not  die.  I  have  not  sinned 
against  the  light !  " 

1833  Returned  (July  9)  to  England,  where,  as  he  said, 
he  had  a  work  to  do.  Five  days  later,  Sunday, 
July  14,  Keble,  in  his  sermon  at  St.  Mary's  on 
"  National  Apostasy,"  inaugurated  the  Oxford 
Movement,  the  aim  of  which  was  to  rid  the  An- 
glican Church  of  state  interference  and  restore 
within  it  the  "  Church  of  the  Fathers."  Newman, 
as  his  contribution  to  the  movement,  began  to  issue 
Tracts  for  the  Times. 

1841  Published  Tract  90,  a  virtual  defense  of  Catholic 
doctrine.  The  tract  caused  a  storm,  and  Newman, 
mildly  censured  by  his  Bishop,  subsequently  re- 
tired into  lay  communion  at  Littlemore. 

1845  Received  into  the   Catholic  Church,   October  9,  by 

Fr.  Dominic,  an  Italian  Passionist. 

1846  Ordained  a  priest  in  Rome. 

1847  Returned   to   England   with   permission   from    Pius 

IX  to  establish  there  the  Oratory  of  St.  Philip 

Neri. 

1850    Founded  the  London  Oratory. 
1852    Preached    his    best    known    sermon,    The    Second 

Spring,  July  21,  in  St.  Mary's  College,  Oscott,  on 

the   occasion   of   the   First   Provincial    Synod   of 

Westminster. 
1852    Delivered  in  Dublin  nine  discourses  on  University 

Teaching  (first  part  of  The  Idea  of  a  University). 
1854    Appointed    Rector    of    the    Catholic    University    in 

Dublin. 


JOHN    HENRY   CARDINAL   NEWMAN  XV 

1854-  Wrote  ten  "  occasional  lectures  and  essays  addressed 
1858      to    the    members    of    the    Catholic    University " 

(second  part  of  The  Idea  of  a  University). 
1858    Retired   from  the  rectorship  of  the  Catholic  Uni- 
versity. 

1864  Wrote  the  Apologia  pro  Vita  Sua,  his  famous  auto- 

biography, which  appeared  in  seven  parts  between 
April  21  and  June  2. 

1865  Wrote  The  Dream  of  Gerontius. 

1879  Created  a  Cardinal-deacon  by  Leo  XIII.  Chose  for 
his  cardinalitial  mottc  a  sentence  from  St.  Fran- 
cis de  Sales,  "  Cor  ad  cor  loquitur "  ("  Heart 
speaketh  to  heart"). 

1890  Died,  August  n,  at  the  Oratory,  Edgbaston,  near 
Birmingham,  England.  His  epitaph,  written  by 
himself,  reads,  "  Ex  umbris  et  imaginibus  in  veri- 
tatem  "  ("  Coming  out  of  shadows  into  realities  "). 

The  editor  is  indebted  to   Barry's  Newman   for  data 
embodied  in  the  foregoing  outline  of  Newman's  life. 


PROSE   TYPES  IN  NEWMAN 


THE  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE 

CONVERSATION  under  normal  conditions  runs 
along  at  haphazard  without  pretense  to  unity  or 
plan.  A  great  variety  of  topics  may  be  covered, 
but  no  unifying  principle  binds  them  together.  On 
the  other  hand,  discourse  or  organized  speech,  how- 
ever varied  its  contents,  is  a  structural  unit,  all  its 
members  serving  a  common  end  and  knit  together 
by  the  bond  of  a  common  underlying  theme.  The 
forms  of  discourse  may  be  reduced  to  five :  Narra- 
tion, Description,  Exposition,  Argumentation,  and 
Persuasion.  Of  these,  Narration  and  Description 
address  themselves  in  the  main  to  the  imagination 
and  emotions,  Exposition  and  Argumentation  to 
the  intellect,  and  Persuasion  to  the  will.1 

1  The  editor  of  this  book  of  selections  has  not  hesitated 
to  apply  the  term  "  prose  "  to  the  composition-types  herein 
illustrated,  though  obviously  these  types  in  their  fullest 
range  transcend  the  division  of  literature  into  poetry 
and  prose. 


A.   NARRATION 

1.  Definition.    Narration  is  a  form  of  discourse 
which  sets  forth  in  sequence  the  particulars  of  a 
transaction  or  event. 

Narration  postulates  a  group  of  particulars. 
What  happens  instantaneously  without  succession 
of  details  cannot  in  any  true  sense  of  the  term  be 
narrated.  Hence  the  simplest  narrated  incident 
must  show  some  succession  of  details,  however  triv- 
ial. Narration  thus  finds  its  proper  material  in 
occurrences  of  whatever  kind,  provided  these  have 
lasted  through  successive  intervals  of  time  and  show 
some  diversity  of  detail.  The  first  of  all  literary 
instincts  is  the  instinct  to  narrate ;  as  a  consequence, 
the  great  national  literatures  owe  their  beginning 
in  every  instance  to  the  story-teller's  art.1 

2.  Elements.     The   texture  of  most   narrative 
is  woven  of  four  distinct  elements:  (a)  the  thing 
that  happened  —  the  element  of  Plot;   (b)  the  per- 
son or  persons  to  whom  it  happened  —  the  element 
of  Character;    (c)  the  place  where  it  happened  — 
the  element  of  Place;    (d)  the  time  when  it  hap- 
pened—  the  element  of  Time. 

1  For  suggestions  in  preparing  the  outlines  of  rhetorical 
principles,  the  editor  is  indebted  to  Genung  and  other 
sources  of  rhetorical  theory. 


NARRATION  3 

(a)  The  Element  of  Plot.    We  may  use  the  term 
broadly  as  equivalent  to  incident  or  event,  and  then 
every  narrative  has  a  plot  inasmuch  as  every  narra- 
tive tells  something  that  happened.     But  the  term 
has  a  narrower  and  more  technical  sense.     Thus 
the  newspaper  account  of  a  fire,  though  it  answers 
to  the  definition  of  narrative  composition,  lacks  plot 
in  the  technical  sense.     The  flashing  headlines  let 
us  know  at  the  outset  the  final  outcome  of  the  in- 
cident in  loss  of  life  and  property  or  in  other  effects. 
To  define,  then,  the  more  restricted  meaning  of  the 
term,  any  grouping  of  the  particulars  of  an  event 
with  a  view  to  arouse  and  sustain  the  reader's  inter- 
est and  keep  him  in  suspense  as  to  the  ultimate  issue 
of  the  action  may  be  called  a  plot.    To  help  us  real- 
ize the  nature  of  plot  various  analogies  have  been 
suggested.    Thus  plot  may  be  conceived  either  as  a 
problem  or  puzzle  to  be  solved,  or  as  a  gathering 
of  threads  into  a  knot  to  be  gradually  untied,  or  as 
a  struggle  of  the  leading  character  or  characters  of 
the  action  with  an  obstacle. 

(b)  The  Element  of  Character.     The  plot  of  a 
narrative  is  generally  dovetailed  into  the  words  and 
actions  of  human  beings.    The  vitality  of  good  nar- 
rative depends  in  most  cases  on  plot-interest  and 
character-interest.    As  a  rule  one  or  the  other  pre- 
dominates, but   both   are  necessary  to  the   effect 
produced. 

^Dialogue  serves  (a)  to  portray  character  and  (b) 
to  carry  on  the  action.    To  express  variety  of  char- 


4  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

acter  it  aims  at  variety  of  style,  using  for  this  end 
dialect,  mannerism,  varying  levels  of  vocabulary  and 
diction,  and  whatever  devices  of  expression  may 
serve  to  mark  off  one  character  from  another. 

(c,  d)  The  Elements  of  Time  and  Place.  To- 
gether they  make  what  is  called  the  Situation,  i.e., 
the  background  or  setting  of  the  narrative.  What 
scenery  and  stage-effects  do  for  a  play,  description 
does  for  a  written  narrative.  It  pictures  with  more 
or  less  vividness  of  effect  a  background  of  time  and 
place  for  the  incidents  of  the  plot. 

3.  Structure.      Well-organized    narrative    con- 
forms to  the  three  great  structural  principles  of 
Unity,  Coherence,  and  Emphasis  or  Mass.     Unity, 
which  regards  the  selection  of  details,  requires  that 
only  those   details   be   embodied   in  the   narrative 
which  contribute,  directly  or  indirectly,  to  develop 
its  main  idea  or  theme.     Coherence,  which  regards 
the  arrangement  of  details,  requires  that  these  be 
ordered   according  to  a   rational   principle   of   se- 
quence, whether  the  principle  be  one  of  logic  or 
time-succession  or  other  kind.     Finally  Emphasis 
or  Mass,  which  is  also  a  principle  of  arrangement, 
requires  that  important  details  be  accorded  posi- 
tions of  advantage  in  the  text.     Such  positions  are 
notably  the  beginning  and  the  end. 

4.  Style.     Force  is  the  typical  quality  of  narra- 
tive style  as  clearness  is  of  expository  and  argu- 
mentative style.     Narrative  aims  mostly  to  interest, 
as  exposition  aims  mostly  to  inform  and  argumen- 


THE  BATTLE  OF   LEPANTO  5 

tation  to  convince.  The  usual  appeal  of  narrative 
is  therefore  to  the  imagination  and  emotions. 
Hence  under  the  various  guises  of  energy,  vigor, 
movement,  etc.,  force,  the  emotional  element  of 
style,  is  the  most  vital  quality  of  narrative  com- 
position. Chief  among  helps  to  force  of  style  is 
the  free  use  of  concrete,  specific,  suggestive  terms. 

I.  THE  BATTLE  OF  LEPANTO 

i.  IT  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  a  Saint*  upon 
whom  lay  "  the  solicitude*  of  all  the  Churches  " 
should  neglect  the  tradition,  which  his  predecessors 
of  so  many  centuries  had  bequeathed  to  him,  of  zeal 
and  hostility  against  the  Turkish  power.  He  was 
only  six  years  on  the  Pontifical  throne,  and  the 
achievement  of  which  I  am  going  to  speak  was 
among  his  last;  he  died  the  following  year.  At 
this  time  the  Ottoman  armies  were  continuing  their 
course  of  victory;  they  had  just  taken  Cyprus,* 
with  the  active  cooperation  of  the  Greek  population 
of  the  island,  and  were  massacring  the  Latin  no- 
bility and  clergy,  and  mutilating  and  flaying  alive 
the  Venetian  governor ;  yet  the  Saint  found  it  im- 
possible to  move  Christendom  to  its  own  defense. 
How,  indeed,  was  that  to  be  done,  when  half  Chris- 
tendom had  become  Protestant,  and  secretly,  per- 
haps, felt  as  the  Greeks  felt,  that  the  Turk  was  its 
friend  and  ally?  In  such  a  quarrel,  England, 
France,  and  Germany  were  out  of  the  question.  At 


6  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

length,  however,  with  great  effort,  he  succeeded  in 
forming  a  holy  league  between  himself,  King 
Philip*  of  Spain,  and  the  Venetians ;  Don*  John  of 
Austria,  King  Philip's  half  brother,  was  appointed 
commander-in-chief  of  the  forces;  and  Colonna* 
admiral.  The  treaty  was  signed  on  the  24th  of 
May,  but  such  was  the  cowardice  and  jealousy  of 
the  parties  concerned,  that  the  autumn  had  arrived 
and  nothing  of  importance  was  accomplished.  With 
difficulty  were  the  armies  united;  with  difficulty 
were  the  dissensions  of  the  commanders  brought 
to  a  settlement.  Meanwhile  the  Ottomans  were 
scouring  the  Gulf  of  Venice,  blockading  the  ports, 
and  terrifying  the  city  itself. 

2.  But  the  holy  Pope  was  securing  the  success 
of  his  cause  by  arms  of  his  own,  which  the  Turks 
understood  not.  He  had  been  appointing  a  Triduo* 
of  supplication  at  Rome,  and  had  taken  part  in  the 
procession  himself.  He  had  proclaimed  a  jubilee 
to  the  whole  Christian  world,  for  the  happy  issue 
of  the  war.  He  had  been  interesting  the  Holy  Vir- 
gin in  his  cause.  He  presented  to  his  admiral,  after 
High  Mass  in  his  chapel,  a  standard  of  red  damask, 
embroidered  with  a  crucifix,  and  with  the  figures 
of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  and  the  legend,  In*  hoc 
signo  vinces.  Next,  sending  to  Messina,*  where  the 
allied  fleet  lay,  he  assured  the  general-in-chief  and 
the  armament,  that  "  if,  relying  on  divine,  rather 
than  on  human  help,  they  attacked  the  enemy,  God 
would  not  be  wanting  to  His  own  cause.  He  au- 


THE   BATTLE  OF   LEPANTO  7 

gured  a  prosperous  and  happy  issue;  not  on  any 
light  or  random  hope,  but  on  a  divine  guidance, 
and  by  the  anticipations  of  many  holy  men."  More- 
over, he  enjoined  the  officers  to  look  to  the  good 
conduct  of  their  troops;  to  repress  swearing,  gam- 
ing, riot,  and  plunder,  and  thereby  to  render  them 
more  deserving  of  victory.  Accordingly,  a  fast  of 
three  days  was  proclaimed  for  the  fleet,  beginning 
with  the  Nativity*  of  Our  Lady ;  all  the  men  went 
to  confession  and  communion,  and  appropriated  to 
themselves  the  plentiful  indulgences  which  the  Pope 
attached  to  the  expedition.  Then  they  moved  across 
the  foot  of  Italy  to  Corfu*,  with  the  intention  of 
presenting  themselves  at  once  to  the  enemy ;  being 
disappointed  in  their  expectations,  they  turned  back 
to  the  Gulf  of  Corinth;*  and  there  at  length,  on  the 
7th  of  October,  they  found  the  Turkish  fleet,  half- 
way between  Lepanto*  and  the  Echiniades*  on  the 
north,  and  Patras*  in  the  Morea*  on  the  south; 
and,  though  it  was  towards  evening,  strong  in 
faith  and  zeal,  they  at  once  commenced  the 
engagement. 

3.  The  night  before  the  battle,  and  the  day  itself, 
aged  as  he  was,  and  broken  with  a  cruel  malady, 
the  Saint  had  passed  in  the  Vatican  in  fasting  and 
prayer.  All  through  the  Holy  City  the  Monasteries 
and  the  Colleges  were  in  prayer  too.  As  the  even- 
ing advanced,  the  Pontifical  Treasurer  asked  an 
audience  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  on  an  important 
matter.  Pius  was  in  his  bed-room  and  began  to 


8  PROSE  TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

converse  with  him ;  when  suddenly  he  stopped  the 
conversation,  left  him,  threw  up  the  window,  and 
gazed  up  into  heaven.  Then  closing  it  again,  he 
looked  gravely  at  the  official,  and  said,  "  This  is  no 
time  for  business ;  go,  return  thanks  to  the  Lord 
God.  In  this  very  hour  our  fleet  has  engaged  the 
Turkish,  and  is  victorious !  "  As  the  Treasurer  went 
out,  he  saw  him  fall  on  his  knees  before  the  altar 
in  thankfulness  and  joy. 

4.  And  a  most  memorable  victory  it  was;  up- 
wards of  30,000  Turks  are  said  to  have  lost  their 
lives  in  the  engagement,  and  3500  were  made 
prisoners.  Almost  their  whole  fleet  was  taken.  I 
quote  from  Protestant  authorities  when  I  say  that 
the  Sultan,  on  the  news  of  the  calamity,  neither 
ate,  nor  drank,  nor  showed  himself,  nor  saw  any- 
one for  three  days ;  that  it  was  the  greatest  blow 
which  the  Ottomans  had  had  sinqe  Timour's*  vic- 
tory over  Bajazet,*  a  century  and  a  half  before; 
nay,  that  it  was  the  turning-point  in  the  Turkish 
history,  and  that  though  the  Sultans  have  had  iso- 
lated successes  since,  yet  from  that  day  they  un- 
deniably and  constantly  declined ;  that  they  have 
lost  their  prestige  and  their  self-confidence;  and 
that  the  victories  gained  over  them  since,  are  but 
the  complements  and  the  reverberations  of  the 
overthrow  at  Lepanto.  (The  Turks  in  Historical 
Sketches,  vol.  i,  p.  155.) 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  Q 

Questions  and  Studies 

Indicate  briefly  the  four  elements  of  Plot,  Char- 
acter, Time,  Place.  Unity.  Is  there  a  strict  exclu- 
sion of  irrelevant  details?  Unity  in  narrative  is 
secured  not  so  much  by  the  dominance  of  one  main 
incident  as  by  the  dominance  of  one  main  character. 
What  is  the  dominant  character  here?  With  refer- 
ence to  what  character  in  particular  is  the  action 
told?  Suggest  other  viewpoints  than  the  one  actu- 
ally used.  Test  §  2  for  unity.  What  is  the  topic- 
sentence?  Coherence.  Is  there  a  departure  from 
strict  chronological  order?  A  desired  rhetori- 
cal effect  is  often  secured  by  compromise  between 
conflicting  rhetorical  principles.  Here  one  struc- 
tural principle  is  slightly  sacrificed  to  the  advan- 
tage of  another.  Explain.  Emphasis.  Is  there 
an  effective  beginning?  an  effective  end?  Are  the 
details  well  chosen  with  a  view  to  arouse  and  main- 
tain interest?  Movement  is  felt  to  be  the  vitalizing 
quality  of  a  good  narrative  style.  Helps  to  move- 
ment are :  a  live  beginning,  omission  of  unnecessary 
details,  suspense  maintained  to  a  climax,  a  brisk 
style.  Does  the  passage  use  these  or  similar  helps  ? 


II.  HE  SHALL  NOT  LOSE  HIS  REWARD 

THERE  was  no  room  for  doubt  or  for  delay. 
"  What  is  to  become  of  you,  Callista*  ?  "  he  said ; 
"  they  will  tear  you  to  pieces." 

"  Fear  nothing  for  me,  father,"  she  answered,  "  I 
am  one  of  them.  They  know  me.  Alas,  /  am  no 
Christian!  /  have  not  abjured  their  rites;  but  you, 
lose  not  a  moment." 

"  They  are  still  at  some  distance,"  he  said, 
"  though  the  wind  gives  us  merciful  warning  of 
their  coming." 

He  looked  about  the  room,  and  took  up  the  books 
of  Holy  Scripture  which  were  on  the  shelf.  "  There 
is  nothing  else,"  he  said,  "  of  special  value  here. 
Agellius*  could  not  take  them.  Here,  my  child,  I 
am  going  to  show  you  a  great  confidence.  To  few 
persons,  not  Christians,  would  I  show  it.  Take  this 
blessed  parchment;  it  contains  the  earthly  history 
of  our  Divine  Master.  Here  you  will  see  whom 
we  Christians  love.  Read  it;  keep  it  safely;  sur- 
render it,  when  you  have  the  opportunity,  into  Chris- 
tian keeping.  My  mind  tells  me  I  am  not  wrong 
in  lending  it  to  you."  He  handed  to  her  the  Gospel 
of  St.  Luke,  while  he  put  the  other  two  volumes 
into  the  folds  of  his  own  tunic. 

10 


HE   SHALL   NOT   LOSE    HIS   REWARD  II 

"  One  word  more,"  she  said ;  "  your  name,  should 
I  want  you." 

He  took  up  a  piece  of  chalk  from  the  shelf,  and 
wrote  upon  the  wall  in  distinct  characters, 

X 

"  Thascius  Caecilius  Cyprianus,*  Bishop  of  Carthage.*  " 

Hardly  had  she  read  the  inscription,  when  the 
voices  of  several  men  were  heard  in  the  very  neigh- 
borhood of  the  cottage;  and  hoping  to  effect  a 
diversion  in  favor  of  Caecilius,  and  being  at  once 
unsuspicious  of  danger  to  herself,  and  careless  of 
her  life,  she  ran  quickly  forward  to  meet  them. 
Caecilius  ought  to  have  taken  to  flight  without  a 
moment's  delay,  but  a  last  sacred  duty  detained 
him.  He  knelt  down  and  took  the  pyx  from  his 
bosom.  He  had  eaten  nothing  that  day;  but  even 
if  otherwise,  it  was  a  crisis  which  allowed  him  to 
consume  the  sacred  species  without  fasting.  He 
hastily  opened  the  golden  case,  adored  the  blessed 
sacrament,  and  consumed  it,  purifying  its  recep- 
tacle, and  restoring  it  to  its  hiding-place.  Then 
he  rose  at  once,  and  left  the  cottage. 

He  looked  about;  Callista  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  She  was  gone;  so  much  was  certain,  no 
enemy  was  in  sight:  it  only  remained  for  him  to 
make  off  too.  In  the  confusion  he  turned  in  the 
wrong  direction ;  instead  of  making  off  at  the  back 
of  the  cottage  from  which  the  voices  had  scared 
him,  he  ran  across  the  garden  into  the  hollow  way. 


12  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

It  was  all  over  with  him  in  an  instant;  he  fell  at 
once  into  the  hands  of  the  vanguard  of  the  mob. 

Many  mouths  were  opened  upon  him  all  at  once. 
"  The  sorcerer !  "  cried  one ;  "  tear  him  to  shreds ; 
we  '11  teach  him  to  brew  his  spells  against  the  city." 
"  Give  us  back  our  grapes  and  corn,"  said  a  second. 
"  Have  a  guard,"  said  a  third ;  "  he  can  turn  you 
into  swine  or  asses,  while  there  is  breath  in  him." 
"  Then  be  the  quicker  with  him,"  said  a  fourth, 
who  was  lifting  up  a  crowbar  to  discharge  upon 
his  head.  "  Hold !  "  said  a  tall  swarthy  youth,  who 
had  already  warded  off  several  blows  from  him, 
"  hold,  will  you  ?  don't  you  see,  if  you  kill  him 
he  can't  undo  the  spell.  Make  him  first  reverse  it 
all;  make  him  take  the  curse  off  us.  Bring  him 
along;  take  him  to  Astarte,*  Hercules,*  or  old 
Saturn.*  We'll  broil  him  on  a  gridiron  till  he 
turns  all  these  canes  into  vines,  and  makes  olive 
berries  of  the  pebbles,  and  turns  the  dust  of  the 
earth  into  fine  flour  for  our  eating.  When  he  has 
done  all  this,  he  shall  dance  a  jig  with  a  wild  cow, 
and  sit  down  to  supper  with  an  hyena." 

A  loud  scream  of  exultation  broke  forth  from  the 
drunken  and  frantic  multitude.  "  Along  with 
him !  "  continued  the  same  speaker  in  a  jeering 
tone.  "  Here,  put  him  on  the  ass,  and  tie  his  hands 
behind  his  back.  He  shall  go  back  in  triumph  to 
the  city  which  he  loves.  Mind  and  don't  touch  him 
before  the  time.  If  you  kill  him,  you  '11  never  get 
the  curse  off.  Come  here,  you  priests  of  Cybele,*  " 


HE  SHALL   NOT  LOSE   HIS  REWARD  13 

he  added,  "  and  be  his  body  guard."  And  he  con- 
tinued to  keep  a  vigilant  eye  and  hand  over  the  old 
man,  in  spite  of  them. 

The  ass,  though  naturally  a  good-tempered  beast, 
had  been  most  sadly  tried  through  the  day.  He 
had  been  fed,  indeed,  out  of  mockery,  as  being  the 
Christians'  god;  but  he  did  not  understand  the 
shouts  and  caprices  of  the  crowd,  and  he  only 
waited  for  an  opportunity  to  show  that  he  by  no 
means  acquiesced  in  the  proceedings  of  the  day. 
And  now  the  difficulty  was  to  move  at  all.  The 
people  kept  crowding  up  the  hollow  road,  and 
blocked  the  passage;  and  though  the  greater  part 
of  the  rioters  had  either  been  left  behind  exhausted 
in  Sicca*  itself,  or  had  poured  over  the  fields  on 
each  side  of  Agellius's  cottage,  or  gone  right  over 
the  hill  down  into  the  valley  beyond,  yet  still  it  was 
some  time  before  the  ass  could  move  a  step,  and  a 
time  of  nervous  suspense  it  was  both  to  Caecilius 
and  the  youth  who  befriended  him.  At  length  what 
remained  of  the  procession  was  persuaded  to  turn 
about  and  make  for  Sicca,  but  in  a  reversed  order. 
It  could  not  be  brought  round  in  so  confined  a  space, 
so  its  rear  went  first,  and  the  ass  and  its  burden 
came  last.  As  they  descended  the  hill  back  again, 
Caecilius,  who  was  mounted  upon  the  linen  and  silk 
which  had  adorned  the  Dea*  Syra  before  the  Ter- 
tullianist*  had  destroyed  the  idol,  saw  before  him 
the  whole  line  of  march.  In  front  were  flaunted 
the  dreadful  emblems  of  idolatry,  so  far  as  their 


14  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

bearers  were  able  still  to  raise  them.  Drunken 
women,  ragged  boys  mounted  on  men's  shoulders, 
ruffians  and  bullies,  savage-looking  Getulians,*  half- 
human  monsters  from  the  Atlas,*  monkeys  and  curs 
jabbering  and  howling,  mummers,*  bacchanals,* 
satyrs,  and  gesticulators,  formed  the  staple  of  the 
procession.  Midway  between  the  hill  which  he  was 
descending  and  the  city  lay  the  ravine,  of  which  we 
have  several  times  spoken,  widening  out  into  the 
plain  or  Campus  Martius*  which  reached  round 
to  the  steep  cliffs  on  the  north.  The  bridle-path, 
along  which  he  was  moving,  crossed  it  just  where  it 
was  opening  and  became  level,  so  as  to  present  no 
abrupt  descent  and  ascent  at  the  place  where  the 
path  was  lowest.  On  the  left  every  vestige  of  it 
soon  ceased,  and  a  free  passage  extended  to  the 
plain. 

The  youth  who  had  placed  Csecilius  on  the  ass 
still  kept  close  to  him,  and  sung  at  the  pitch  of  his 
voice,  in  imitation  of  the  rest : 

"  Sporting  and  snorting  in  shades  of  the  night, 
His  ears  pricking  up,  and  his  hoofs  striking  light, 
And  his  tail  whisking  round  in  the  speed  of  his  flight." 

"  Old  man,"  he  continued  to  Caecilius  in  a  low 
voice,  and  in  Latin,  "  your  curse  has  not  worked 
on  me  yet." 

"  My  son,"  answered  the  priest,  "  you  are  granted 
one  day  more  for  repentance." 

"  Lucky  for  you,  as  well  as  for  me,"  was  the 
reply;  and  he  continued  his  song: 


HE  SHALL   NOT  LOSE   HIS   REWARD  1$ 

"  Gurta,*  the  witch,  was  out  with  the  rest ; 
Though  as  lame  as  a  gull,*  by  his  highness  possessed, 
She  shouldered  her  crutch,  and  danced  with  the  best. 

"  She  stamped  and  she  twirled  in  the  shade  of  the  yew, 
Till  her  gossips  and  chums  of  the  city  danced  too; 
They  never  are  slack  when  there  's  mischief  to  do. 

"  She  danced  and  she  coaxed,  but  he  was  no  fool ; 
He  'd  be  his  own  master,  he  'd  not  be  her  tool ; 
Not  the  little*  black  moor  should  send  him  to  school." 

He  then  turned  to  Caecilius,  and  whispered,  "  You 
see,  old  father,  that  others,  besides  Christians,  can 
forgive  and  forget.  Henceforth  call  me  generous 
Juba.*  "  And  he  tossed  his  head. 

By  this  time  they  had  got  to  the  bottom  of  the 
hill,  and  the  deep  shadows  which  filled  the  hollow 
showed  that  the  sun  was  rapidly  sinking  in  the  west. 
Suddenly,  as  they  were  crossing  the  bottom  as  it 
opened  into  the  plain,  Juba  seized  and  broke  the 
thong  which  bound  Caecilius's  arms,  and  bestowing 
a  tremendous  cut  with  it  upon  the  side  of  the  ass, 
sent  him  forward  upon  the  plain  at  his  full  speed. 
The  asses  of  Africa  can  do  more  on  an  occasion  of 
this  kind  than  our  own.  Caecilius  for  the  moment 
lost  his  seat ;  but,  instantly  recovering  it,  took  care 
to  keep  the  animal  from  flagging;  and  the  cries 
of  the  mob,  and  the  howling  of  the  priests  of  Cybele 
cooperated  in  the  task.  At  length  the  gloom,  in- 
creasing every  minute,  hid  him  from  their  view; 
and  even  in  daylight  his  recapture  would  have 


l6  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

been  a  difficult  matter  for  a  wearied-out,  famished, 
and  intoxicated  rabble.  Before  he  well  had  time 
to  return  thanks  for  this  unexpected  turn  of  events, 
Caecilius  was  out  of  pursuit,  and  was  ambling  at  a 
pace  more  suitable  to  the  habits  of  the  beast  of  bur- 
den that  carried  him,  over  an  expanse  of  plain  which 
would  have  been  a  formidable  night-march  to  a 
fasting  man. 

We  must  not  conclude  the  day  without  relating 
what  was  its  issue  to  the  persecutors,  as  well  as  to 
their  intended  victim.  It  is  almost  a  proverb  that 
punishment  is  slow  in  overtaking  crime;  but  the 
present  instance  was  an  exception  to  the  rule.  While 
the  exiled  bishop  of  Carthage  escaped,  the  crowd, 
on  the  other  hand,  were  caught  in  the  trap  which 
had  been  laid  for  them.  We  have  already  said  it 
was  a  ruse  on  the  part  of  the  governing  authorities 
of  the  place  to  get  the  rioters  out  of  the  city,  that 
they  might  at  once  be  relieved  of  them,  and  then 
deal  with  them  just  as  they  might  think  fit.  When 
the  mob  was  once  outside  the  walls,  they  might  be 
refused  readmittance,  and  put  down  with  a  strong 
hand.  The  Roman  garrison,  who,  powerless  to 
quell  the  tumult  in  the  narrow  and  winding  streets 
and  multiplied  alleys  of  the  city,  had  been  the 
authors  of  the  maneuver,  now  took  on  themselves 
the  stern  completion  of  it,  and  determined  to  do  so 
in  the  sternest  way.  Not  a  single  head  of  all  those 
who  poured  out  in  the  afternoon  should  return  at 
night.  It  was  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  soldiers 


HE   SHALL   NOT   LOSE   HIS   REWARD  I/ 

had  any  tenderness  for  the  Christians,  but  they 
abominated  and  despised  the  rabble  of  the  town. 
They  were  indignant  at  their  rising,  thought  it  a 
personal  insult  to  themselves,  and  resolved  they 
should  never  do  so  again.  The  gates  were  com- 
monly in  the  custody  of  the  city  guard,  but  the 
Porta  Septimiana,  by  which  the  mob  passed  out, 
was  on  this  occasion  claimed  by  the  Romans.  It 
was  most  suitably  circumstanced  for  the  use  they 
intended  to  make  of  it.  Immediately  outside  of  it 
was  a  large  court  of  the  same  level  as  the  ground 
inside,  bordered  on  the  right  and  left  by  substantial 
walls,  which  after  a  time  were  drawn  to  meet  each 
other,  and  contracted  the  space  to  the  usual  breadth 
of  a  road.  The  walls  continued  to  run  along  this 
road  for  some  distance,  till  they  joined  the  way 
which  led  to  the  Campus  Martius,  and  from  this 
point  the  ground  was  open,  till  it  reached  the  head 
of  the  ravine.  The  soldiers  drew  up  at  the  gates, 
and  as  the  worn-out  and  disappointed,  brutalized 
and  half-idiotic  multitudes  returned  towards  it  from 
the  country,  those  who  were  behind  pushed  on  be- 
tween the  border  walls  those  who  were  in  front,  and, 
wbile  they  jammed  together  their  ranks,  also  made 
escape  impossible.  It  was  now  that  the  Roman  sol- 
diers began  their  barbarous,  not  to  say  cowardly, 
assault  upon  them.  With  heavy  maces,  with  the 
pike,  with  iron  gauntlets,  with  stones  and  bricks, 
with  clubs,  with  the  scourge,  with  the  sword,  with 
the  helmet,  with  whatever  came  to  hand,  they  com- 


'l8  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

menced  the  massacre  of  that  large  concourse  of 
human  beings,  who  did  not  offer  one  blow  in  return. 
They  slaughtered  them  like  sheep;  they  trampled 
them  down ;  they  threw  the  bodies  of  the  wounded 
over  the  wall.  Attempting  to  run  back,  numbers  of 
the  poor  wretches  came  into  conflict  with  the  ranks 
behind  them,  and  an  additional  scene  of  confusion 
and  overthrow  took  place;  numbers  straggled  over 
to  the  open  country  or  woods,  and  perished,  either 
from  the  weather,  or  from  hunger,  or  even  from 
the  wild  beasts.  Others,  weakened  by  excess  and 
famine,  fell  a  prey  to  the  pestilence  that  was  raging. 
After  some  days  a  remnant  of  them  was  allowed 
silently  and  timidly  to  steal  back  into  the  city  as 
best  they  could.  It  was  a  long  day  before  the  Plebs* 
Siccensis  ventured  to  have  any  opinion  of  its  own 
upon  the  subject  of  Christianity,  or  any  other  politi- 
cal, social,  or  ecclesiastical  topic  whatever.  (Cal- 
lista,  chap,  xx.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

This  selection  is  the  whole  of  chapter  xx  of  Cal- 
lista.  The  note  of  prophecy  in  the  heading  of  the 
chapter  is  made  good  in  Juba's  final  conversion. 

Situation.  Study  the  passages  describing  the 
scenes  of  the  two  main  incidents.  Are  the  descrip- 
tions clear,  so  that  the  scenes  stand  out  distinctly 
in  the  imagination?  Character.  How  much  do  we 
learn  from  the  chapter  of  the  character  of  Csecilius  ? 


QUESTIONS   AND   STUDIES  19 

of  Callista?  of  the  Siccan  mob?  of  the  Roman  gar- 
rison? Discuss  the  dialogue.  Is  it  easy  and  natu- 
ral? significant?  Plot.  Discuss  the  elements  of 
suspense  and  climax  in  the  incident  of  Caecilius's 
escape. 

Is  the  account  of  the  massacre  of  the  Siccan  mob 
narration  or  description  ?  Give  reasons  for  answer. 
Movement  in  narrative  style  may  be  quickened, 
e.g.,  (a)  by  omission  of  connectives;  (6)  by  omis- 
sion of  descriptive  and  reflective  passages;  (c)  by 
short,  direct,  unencumbered  sentences.  Are  these 
or  other  devices  used  in  the  first  part  of  the  chapter 
to  accelerate  the  movement?  What  qualities  of  an 
effective  narrative  style  are  exemplified? 

Do  you  see  anything  particularly  effective  in  the 
opening  lines?  Do  they  illustrate  any  hint  or  help 
you  know  of  for  making  a  good  start  in  a  story? 
Do  you  note  any  special  force  in  the  last  sentence, 
"  It  was  a  long  day,  etc."  ? 


III.    GURTA  AND  JUBA 

IN  the  bosom  of  the  woods  which  stretched  for 
many  miles  from  the  immediate  environs  of  Sicca, 
and  placed  on  a  gravel  slope  which  reached  down 
to  a  brook,  which  ran  in  a  bottom  close  by,  was  a 
small,  rude  hut,  of  a  kind  peculiar  to  Africa,  and 
commonly  ascribed  to  the  wandering  tribes,  who 
neither  cared,  nor  had  leisure,  for  a  more  stable  hab- 
itation. Some  might  have  called  it  a  tent,  from  the 
goat's-hair  cloth  with  which  it  was  covered;  but 
it  looked,  as  to  shape,  like  nothing  else  than  an  in- 
verted boat,  or  the  roof  of  a  house  set  upon  the 
ground.  Inside  it  was  seen  to  be  constructed  of 
the  branches  of  trees,  twisted  together  or  wattled, 
the  interstices,  or  rather  the  whole  surface,  being 
covered  with  clay.  Being  thus  stoutly  built,  lined, 
and  covered,  it  was  proof  against  the  tremendous 
rains,  to  which  the  climate,  for  which  it  was  made, 
was  subject.  Along  the  center  ridge  or  backbone, 
which  varied  in  height  from  six  to  ten  feet  from 
the  ground,  it  was  supported  by  three  posts  or  pil- 
lars; at  one  end  it  rose  conically  to  an  open  aper- 
ture, which  served  for  chimney,  for  window,  and 
for  the  purposes  of  ventilation.  Hooks  were  sus- 
pended from  the  roof  for  baskets,  articles  of  cloth- 
ing, weapons,  and  implements  of  various  kinds; 

20 


GURTA  AND  JUBA  21 

and  a  second  cone,  excavated  in  the  ground  with 
the  vertex  downward,  served  as  a  storehouse  for 
grain.  The  door  was  so  low  that  an  ordinary  per- 
son must  bend  double  to  pass  through  it. 

However,  it  was  in  the  winter  months  only,  when 
the  rains  were  profuse,  that  the  owner  of  this  re- 
spectable mansion  condescended  to  creep  into  it.  In 
summer  she  had  a  drawing-room,  as  it  may  be 
called,  of  nature's  own  creation,  in  which  she  lived, 
and  in  one  quarter  of  which  she  had  her  lair.  Close 
above  the  hut  was  a  high  plot  of  level  turf,  sur- 
rounded by  old  oaks,  and  fringed  beneath  with  thick 
underwood.  In  the  center  of  this  green  rose  a  yew 
tree  of  primeval  character.  Indeed,  the  whole  for- 
est spoke  of  the  very  beginnings  of  the  world,  as 
if  it  had  been  the  immediate  creation  of  that  Voice 
which  bade  the  earth  clothe  itself  with  green  life. 
But  the  place  no  longer  spoke  exclusively  of  its 
Maker.  Upon  the  trees  hung  the  emblems  and 
objects  of  idolatry,  and  the  turf  was  traced  with 
magical  characters.  Littered  about  were  human 
bones,  horns  of  wild  animals,  wax  figures,  sperma-^ 
ceti  taken  from  vaults,  large  nails,  to  which  por- 
tions of  flesh  adhered,  as  if  they  had  had  to  do  with 
malefactors,  metal  plates  engraved  with  strange 
characters,  bottled  blood,  hair  of  young  persons,  and 
old  rags.  The  reader  must  not  suppose  any  incan- 
tation is  about  to  follow,  or  that  the  place  we  are 
describing  will  have  a  prominent  place  in  what  re- 
mains of  our  tale;  but  even  if  it  be  the  scene  of 


22  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

only  one  conversation,  and  one  event,  there  is  no 
harm  in  describing  it,  as  it  appeared  on  that 
occasion. 

The  old  crone,  who  was  seated  in  this  bower  of 
delight,  had  an  expression  of  countenance  in  keep- 
ing, not  with  the  place,  but  with  the  furniture  with 
which  it  was  adorned :  that  furniture  told  her  trade. 
Whether  the  root  of  superstition  might  be  traced 
deeper  still,  and  the  woman  and  her  traps  were 
really  and  directly  connected  with  the  powers  be- 
neath the  earth,  it  is  impossible  to  determine:  it  is 
certain  she  had  the  will,  it  is  certain  that  that  will 
was  from  their  inspiration;  nay,  it  is  certain  that 
she  thought  she  really  possessed  the  communications 
which  she  desired ;  it  is  certain,  too,  she  so  far 
deceived  herself  as  to  fancy  that  what  she  learned 
by  mere  natural  means  came  to  her  from  a  diaboli- 
cal source.  She  kept  up  an  active  correspondence 
with  Sicca.  She  was  consulted  by  numbers:  she 
was  up  with  the  public  news,  the  social  gossip,  and 
the  private  and  secret  transactions  of  the  hour ;  and 
had,  before  now,  even  interfered  in  matters  of  state, 
and  had  been  courted  by  rival  political  parties.  But 
in  the  high  cares  and  occupations  of  this  interest- 
ing person,  we  are  not  here  concerned ;  but  with  a 
conversation  which  took  place  between  her  and 
Juba,  about  the  same  hour  of  the  evening  as  that 
of  Caecilius's  escape,  but  on  the  day  after  it,  while 
the  sun  was  gleaming  almost  horizontally  through 
the  tall  trunks  of  the  trees  of  the  forest. 


GURTA  AND  JUBA  23 

| 

"  Well,  my  precious  boy,"  said  the  old  woman, 
"  the  choicest  gifts  of  great  Cham*  be  your  portion ! 
You  had  excellent  sport  yesterday,  I  '11  warrant. 
The  rats  squeaked,  eh  ?  and  you  beat  the  life  out  of 
them.  That  scoundrel  sacristan,  I  suppose,  has 
taken  up  his  quarters  below." 

"  You  may  say  it,"  answered  Juba.  "  The  reptile ! 
he  turned  right  about,  and  would  have  made  him- 
self an  honest  fellow,  when  it  couldn't  be  helped." 

"  Good,  good !  "  returned  Gurta,  as  if  she  had  got 
something  very  pleasant  in  her  mouth ;  "  ah !  that 
is  good!  but  he  did  not  escape  on  that  score,  I  do 
trust." 

"  They  pulled  him  to  pieces  all  the  more  cheer- 
fully," said  Juba. 

"  Pulled  him  to  pieces,  limb  by  limb,  joint  by 
joint,  eh  ?  "  answered  Gurta.  "  Did  they  skin  him  ? 
—  did  they  do  anything  to  his  eyes,  or  his  tongue  ? 
Anyhow,  it  was  too  quickly,  Juba.  Slowly,  lei- 
surely, gradually.  Yes,  it 's  like  a  glutton  to  be 
quick  about  it.  Taste  him,  handle  him,  play  with 
him,  —  that 's  luxury !  but  to  bolt  him,  —  faugh !  " 

"  Caeso's  slave  made  a  good  end,"  said  Juba :  "  he 
stood  up  for  his  views,  and  died  like  a  man." 

"  The  gods  smite  him !  but  he  has  gone  up,  — 
up :  "  and  she  laughed.  "  Up  to  what  they  call  bliss 
and  glory ;  —  such  glory !  but  he  's  out  of  their 
domain,  you  know.  But  he  did  not  die  easy  ?  " 

"  The  boys  worried  him  a  good  deal,"  answered 
Juba :  "  but  it 's  not  quite  in  my  line,  mother,  all 


24  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

this.  I  think  you  drink  a  pint  of  blood  morning  and 
evening1,  and  thrive  on  it,  old  woman.  It  makes 
you  merry ;  but  it 's  too  much  for  my  stomach." 

"Ha,  ha,  my  boy!"  cried  Gurta;  "you'll  im- 
prove in  time,  though  you  make  wry  faces,  now  that 
you  're  young.  Well,  and  have  you  brought  me 
any  news  from  the  capitol?  Is  anyone  getting  a 
rise  in  the  world,  or  a  downfall?  How  blows  the 
wind?  Are  there  changes  in  the  camp?  This 
Decius,*  I  suspect,  will  not  last  long." 

"  They  all  seem  desperately  frightened,"  said 
Juba,  "  lest  they  should  not  smite  your  friends  hard 
enough,  Gurta.  Root  and  branch  is  the  word. 
They  '11  have  to  make  a  few  Christians  for  the 
occasion,  in  order  to  kill  them :  and  I  almost  think 
they  're  about  it,"  he  added,  thoughtfully.  "  They 
have  to  show  that  they  are  not  surpassed  by  the 
rabble.  'T  is  a  pity  Christians  are  so  few,  isn't  it, 
mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  she  said ;  "  but  we  must  crush  them, 
grind  them,  many  or  few :  and  we  shall,  we  shall ! 
Callista  's  to  come." 

"  I  don't  see  they  are  worse  than  other  people," 
said  Juba;  "not  at  all,  except  that  they  are  com- 
monly sneaks.  If  Callista  turns,  why  should  not 
I  turn  too,  mother,  to  keep  her  company,  and  keep 
your  hand  in  ?  " 

"  No,  no,  my  boy,"  returned  the  witch,  "  you  must 
serve  my  master.  You  are  having  your  fling  just 
now,  but  you  will  buckle  to  in  good  time.  You 


GURTA  AND  JUBA  25 

must  one  day  take  some  work  with  my  merry  men. 
Come  here,  child,"  said  the  fond  mother,  "  and  let 
me  kiss  you." 

"  Keep  your  kisses  for  your  monkeys,  and  goats, 
and  cats,"  answered  Juba :  "  they  're  not  to  my 
taste,  old  dame.  Master !  my  master !  I  won't  have 
a  master !  I  '11  be  nobody's  servant.  I  '11  never 
stand  to  be  hired,  nor  cringe  to  a  bully,  nor  quake 
before  a  rod.  Please  yourself,  Gurta ;  I  'm  a  free 
man.  You  're  my  mother  by  courtesy  only." 

Gurta  looked  at  him  savagely.  "  Why  you  're  not 
going  to  be  pious  and  virtuous,  Juba?  A  choice 
saint  you  '11  make !  You  shall  be  drawn  for  a 
picture." 

"  Why  shouldn't  I,  if  I  choose?  "  said  Juba.  "  If 
I  must  take  service,  willy,  nilly,  I  'd  any  day  prefer 
the  other's  to  that  of  your  friend.  I  've  not  left  the 
master  to  take  the  man." 

"  Blaspheme  not  the  great  gods,"  she  answered, 
"  or  they  '11  do  you  a  mischief  yet." 

"  I  say  again,"  insisted  Juba,  "  if  I  must  lick  the 
earth,  it  shall  not  be  where  your  friend  has  trod.  It 
shall  be  in  my  brother's  fashion,  rather  than  in 
yours,  Gurta." 

"  Agellius ! "  she  shrieked  out  with  such  dis- 
gust that  it  is  wonderful  she  uttered  the  name  at 
all.  "  Ah !  you  have  not  told  me  about  him,  boy. 
Well,  is  he  safe  in  the  pit,  or  in  the  stomach  of  an 
hyena?" 

"  He 's  alive,"  said  Juba ;  "  but  he  has  not  got  it 


26  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

in  him  to  be  a  Christian.  Yes,  he  's  safe  with  his 
uncle." 

"  Ah !  Jucundus  must  ruin  him,  debauch  him,  and 
then  we  must  make  away  with  him.  We  must  not 
be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Gurta,  "  it  must  be  body  and 
soul." 

"  No  one  shall  touch  him,  craven  as  he  is," 
answered  Juba.  "  I  despise  him,  but  let  him 
alone." 

"  Don't  come  across  me,"  said  Gurta,  sullenly ; 
"  I  '11  have  my  way.  Why,  you  know  I  could  smite 
you  to  the  dust,  as  well  as  him,  if  I  chose." 

"  But  you  have  not  asked  me  about  Callista,"  an- 
swered Juba.  "  It  is  really  a  capital  joke,  but  she 
has  got  into  prison  for  certain,  for  being  a  Chris- 
tian. Fancy  it!  they  caught  her  in  the  streets,  and 
put  her  in  the  guard-house,  and  have  had  her  up 
for  examination.  You  see  they  want  a  Christian  for 
the  nonce:  it  would  not  do  to  have  none  such  in 
prison ;  so  they  will  flourish  with  her  till  Decius 
bolts  from  the  scene." 

"  The  furies  have  her !  "  cried  Gurta :  "  she  is 
a  Christian,  my  boy :  I  told  you  so,  long  ago." 

"  Callista  a  Christian !  "  answered  Juba,  "  ha !  ha ! 
She  and  Agellius  are  going  to  make  a  match  of  it, 
of  some  sort  or  other.  They  're  thinking  of  other 
things  than  paradise." 

"  She  and  the  old  priest,  more  likely,  more  likely," 
said  Gurta.  "  He  's  in  prison  with  her,  —  in  the 
pit,  as  I  trust." 


GURTA  AND  JUBA  27 

"Your  master  has  cheated  you  for  once,  old 
woman,"  said  Juba. 

Gurta  looked  at  him  fiercely,  and  seemed  waiting 
for  his  explanation.  He  began  singing: 

"  She  wheedled  and  coaxed,  but  he  was  no  fool ; 
He  'd  be  his  own  master,  he  'd  not  be  her  tool ; 
Not  the  little  black  moor  should  send  him  to  school. 

"  She  foamed  and  she  cursed,  —  't  was  the  same  thing  to 

him; 

She  laid  well  her  trap ;   but  he  carried  his  whim :  — 
The  priest  scuffled  off,  safe  in  life  and  in  limb." 

Gurta  was  almost  suffocated  with  passion.  "  Cyp- 
rianus  has  not  escaped,  boy  ?  "  she  asked  at  length. 

"  I  got  him  off,"  said  Juba,  undauntedly. 

A  shade,  as  of  Erebus,*  passed  over  the  witch's 
face;  but  she  remained  quite  silent. 

"  Mother,  I  am  my  own  master,"  he  continued. 
"  I  must  break  your  assumption  of  superiority.  I  'm 
not  a  boy,  though  you  call  me  so.  I  '11  have  my  own 
way.  Yes,  I  saved  Cyprianus.  You  're  a  blood- 
thirsty old  hag !  Yes,  /  've  seen  your  secret  doings. 
Did  not  I  catch  you  the  other  day,  practicing  on 
that  little  child?  You  had  nailed  him  up  by  hands 
and  feet  against  the  tree,  and  were  cutting  him  to 
pieces  at  your  leisure,  as  he  quivered  and  shrieked 
the  while.  You  were  examining  or  using  his  liver 
for  some  of  your  black  purposes.  It 's  not  in  my 
line ;  but  you  gloated  over  it ;  and  when  he  wailed, 


28  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

you  wailed  in  mimicry.  You  were  panting  with 
pleasure." 

Gurta  was  still  silent,  and  had  an  expression  on 
her  face,  awful  from  the  intensity  of  its  malignity. 
She  had  uttered  a  low  piercing  whistle. 

"  Yes !  "  continued  Juba,  "  you  reveled  in  it.  You 
chattered  to  the  poor  babe,  when  it  screamed,  as  a 
nurse  to  an  infant.  You  called  it  pretty  names,  and 
squeaked  out  your  satisfaction  each  time  you  stuck 
it.  You  old  hag !  I  'm  not  of  your  breed,  though 
they  say  I  am  of  your  blood.  /  don't  fear  you,"  he 
said,  observing  the  expression  of  her  countenance, 
"  I  don't  fear  the  immortal  devil !  "  And  he  con- 
tinued his  song : 

"  She  beckoned  the  moon,  and  the  moon  came  down ; 
The  green  earth  shriveled  beneath  her  frown ; 
But  a  man's  strong  will  can  keep  his  own." 

While  he  was  talking  and  singing,  her  call  had 
been  answered  from  the  hut.  An  animal  of  some 
wonderful  species  had  crept  out  of  it,  and  proceeded 
to  creep  and  crawl,  mowing  and  twisting  as  it 
went,  along  the  trees  and  shrubs  which  rounded  the 
grass  plot.  When  it  came  up  to  the  old  woman, 
it  crouched  at  her  feet,  and  then  rose  up  upon  its 
hind  legs  and  begged.  She  took  hold  of  the  un- 
couth beast  and  began  to  fondle  it  in  her  arms,  mut- 
tering something  in  its  ear.  At  length,  when  Juba 
stopped  for  a  moment  in  his  song,  she  suddenly  flung 
it  right  at  him,  with  great  force,  saying,  "  Take 


GURTA  AND  JUBA  29 

that !  "  She  then  gave  utterance  to  a  low  inward 
laugh,  and  leaned  herself  back  against  the  trunk 
of  the  tree  under  which  she  was  sitting,  with  her 
knees  drawn  up  almost  to  her  chin. 

The  blow  seemed  to  act  on  Juba  as  a  shock  on  his 
nervous  system,  both  from  its  violence  and  its 
strangeness.  He  stood  still  for  a  moment,  and  then, 
without  saying  a  word,  he  turned  away,  and  walked 
slowly  down  the  hill,  as  if  in  a  maze.  Then  he  sat 
down.  .  .  . 

In  an  instant  up  he  started  again  with  a  great  cry, 
and  began  running  at  the  top  of  his  speed.  He 
thought  he  heard  a  voice  speaking  in  him;  and, 
however  fast  he  ran,  the  voice,  or  whatever  it  was, 
kept  up  with  him.  He  rushed  through  the  under- 
wood, trampling  and  crushing  it  under  his  feet,  and 
scaring  the  birds  and  small  game  which  lodged 
there.  At  last,  exhausted,  he  stood  still  for  breath, 
when  he  heard  it  say  loudly  and  deeply,  as  if  speak- 
ing with  his  own  organs,  "  You  cannot  escape  from 
yourself !  "  Then  a  terror  seized  him ;  he  fell 
down  and  fainted  away. 

When  his  senses  returned,  his  first  impression  was 
of  something  in  him  not  himself.  He  felt  it  in  his 
breathing;  he  tasted  it  in  his  mouth.  The  brook 
which  ran  by  Gurta's  encampment  had  by  this  time 
become  a  streamlet,  though  still  shallow.  He 
plunged  into  it;  a  feeling  came  upon  him  as  if  he 
ought  to  drown  himself,  had  it  been  deeper.  He 
rolled  about  in  it,  in  spite  of  its  flinty  and  rocky  bed. 


3O  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

When  he  came  out  of  it,  his  tunic  sticking  to  him, 
he  tore  it  off  his  shoulders,  and  let  it  hang  round 
his  girdle  in  shreds,  as  it  might.  The  shock  of  the 
water,  however,  acted  as  a  sedative  upon  him,  and 
the  coolness  of  the  night  refreshed  him.  He  walked 
on  for  a  while  in  silence. 

Suddenly  the  power  within  him  began  uttering, 
by  means  of  his  organs  of  speech,  the  most  fearful 
blasphemies,  words  embodying  conceptions  which, 
had  they  come  into  his  mind,  he  might  indeed  have 
borne  with  patience  before  this,  or  uttered  in  bra- 
vado, but  which  now  filled  him  with  inexpressible 
loathing,  and  a  terror  to  which  he  had  hitherto  been 
quite  a  stranger.  He  had  always  in  his  heart  be- 
lieved in  a  God,  but  he  now  believed  with  a  reality 
and  intensity  utterly  new  to  him.  He  felt  it  as  if 
he  saw  Him ;  he  felt  there  was  a  world  of  good  and 
evil  beings.  He  did  not  love  the  good,  or  hate  the 
evil ;  but  he  shrank  from  the  one,  and  he  was  terri- 
fied at  the  other ;  and  he  felt  himself  carried  away, 
against  his  will,  as  the  prey  of  some  dreadful,  mys- 
terious power,  which  tyrannized  over  him.  (Cal- 
lista,  chaps,  xxiii,  xxiv.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Situation.  Shifting  of  the  viewpoint  must  be 
indicated  to  the  reader  directly  or  otherwise  (cf. 
p.  29).  See  an  instance  in  point  in  the  picture  of 
Gurta's  hut.  The  situation  not  only  provides  a 


QUESTIONS   AND   STUDIES  31 

background  for  the  plot,  but  may  also  suggest  the 
mood  of  the  action.  Does  the  description  of  Gurta's 
"  drawing-room  "  in  the  woods  suggest  the  mood  of 
the  subsequent  action  ?  How  ?  Character.  Analyze 
the  characters  of  Gurta  and  Juba  as  far  as  made 
known.  Note,  in  Gurta's  case,  the  knowledge  we 
get  of  her  from  her  gruesome  quarters  in  the  woods, 
her  conversation,  her  deeds.  Is  the  portrayal  of  her 
consistent  in  all  details?  Is  it  graphic,  so  as  to  im- 
press the  imagination  ?  "  Concrete  portrayal  "  is 
portrayal  which  shows  us  persons  saying  and  doing 
characteristic  things.  Its  method,  therefore,  is  dis- 
tinct from  that  indirect  method  which  is  satisfied 
merely  to  tell  us  characteristic  things  about  the  per- 
sons. Are  the  portrayals  of  Gurta  and  Juba  con- 
crete in  this  sense  ?  Dialogue.  Dialogue  serves  two 
ends :  it  forwards  the  plot  and  it  portrays  character. 
Are  both  ends  served  here?  Is  the  dialogue  inter- 
esting ?  lively  ?  significant  ?  Plot.  Study  carefully 
the  elements  of  suspense  and  climax.  Is  interest 
roused  and  maintained?  Is  the  action  progressive? 
swift  in  movement?  What  incident  forms  the  dra- 
matic center  of  the  action?  Skillful  handling  of 
suspense  and  climax  requires  proper  subordination 
of  details.  Is  this  principle  looked  to  ?  Style.  Sum 
up  the  characteristics  of  a  typical  narrative  style 
and  determine  to  what  extent  they  are  realized  in 
this  selection. 


IV.  THE  NORTHMEN  IN  ENGLAND 
AND  IRELAND 

WE  must  enlarge  on  these  Northmen,*  from  the 
course  which  their  history  takes  in  the  sequel. 
Their  chiefs,  then,  called  the  sea-kings,  were  the 
younger  sons  of  the  petty  princes  of  Scandinavia, 
sent  out  to  seek  their  fortunes  and  to  win  glory 
upon  the  wide  ocean,  with  the  outfit  of  a  vessel  and 
its  equipments.  They  ravaged  far  and  wide  at  will, 
and  no  retaliation  on  them  was  possible;  for  these 
pirates,  unlike  their  more  civilized  brethren  of  Al- 
giers or  of  Greece,  had  not  a  yard  of  territory,  a 
town,  or  a  fort,  no  property  besides  their  vessels, 
no  subjects  but  their  crews.  They  were  not  allowed 
either  to  inherit  or  transmit  the  booty  which  these 
piratical  expeditions  collected.  Such  personal  pos- 
sessions, even  to  the  gold  and  silver,  were  buried 
with  the  plunderer.  Never  to  sleep  under  a  smoke- 
burnished  roof,  never  to  fill  the  cup  over  the  cheer- 
ful hearth,  was  their  boast  and  their  principle.  If 
they  drank,  it  was  not  for  indulgence  or  for  good 
company;  but,  by  a  degrading  extravagance,  to 
rival  the  beasts  of  prey  and  blood  in  their  wild  bru- 
tality. Their  berserkirs,  half  madmen,  half  magi- 
cians, studied  to  imitate  dogs,  or  wolves,  or  bears, 

32 


THE  NORTHMEN   IN   ENGLAND  33 

in  their  methods  of  attack,  tearing  off  their  clothes, 
howling,  gnawing  their  armor,  till  they  collapsed 
from  the  violence  of  their  preternatural  ferocity. 

2.  Though  the  sea  was  their  element,  they  were 
equally  prepared  to  avail  themselves  of  the  land, 
and  equally  at  home  upon  it.  They  seemed  to  have 
a  ubiquitous  presence.  As  the  lightning,  the  hurri- 
cane, or  the  plague  sweeps  through  its  inevitable 
circuit,  or  hurries  along  its  capricious  zigzag  path, 
so  these  marauders  were  at  one  time  lurking  in  the 
deep  creek,  and  darting  out  upon  the  unsuspecting 
voyager,  at  another  hurrying  along  the  coast,  mak- 
ing their  sudden  descent  and  as  suddenly  reembark- 
ing;  and  at  another,  landing,  leaving  their  vessels, 
and  running  up  the  country.  They  had  come  and 
gone,  and  done  their  terrible  work,  before  they 
could  be  encountered.  Now  they  were  on  the  Ger- 
man Sea,  now  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  now  in  the 
Mediterranean.  They  were  at  Rouen,*  at  Amiens,* 
at  Paris,  on  the  Loire,*  in  Burgundy.*  They  were 
in  Brittany,*  in  Aquitaine,*  at  Bordeaux.*  They 
landed  on  the  coast  near  Cadiz,*  and  faced  the 
Moorish*  monarch  in  three  battles.  Then,  again, 
they  were  at  Holland,  on  the  Walcheren,*  at  Cam- 
bray,*  at  Hainault,*  at  Louvain,*  and  other  parts 
of  Belgium.  They  set  fire  to  the  villages  and  to  the 
crops;  they  massacred  the  peasantry;  they  cruci- 
fied, they  impaled;  they  spitted  infants  on  their 
lances;  cruelty  was  one  of  the  glories  of  their 
warfare. 


34  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

3.  But  England  and  Ireland,  as  first  meeting 
them  in  their  descent  to  the  South,  bore  the  brunt 
of  their  fury.  The  two  islands  could  not  escape  the 
common  lot;  ruin  had  overtaken  the  Continent  in 
the  earlier  centuries,  and  now  their  turn  was  come. 
It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  trace  out  the  particulars 
of  that  awful  visitation,  under  which  two  nations, 
who  had  been  rivals  in  saintly  memories,  became 
rivals  also  in  the  depth  of  a  spiritual  degradation; 
a  degradation  which  made  them  reckless  and  des- 
perate, and  ungrateful  to  the  record  of  God's  past 
mercies  and  their  fathers'  noble  deeds.  England  for 
two  hundred  and  fifty  years,  and  Ireland  for  an 
additional  hundred,  were  the  prey,  the  victims,  the 
bond-slaves  of  these  savage  Northmen.  What  hap- 
pened to  one  country,  happened  on  the  whole  to  the 
other;  and  what  we  have  already  said  of  their  foe 
in  his  descent  upon  other  countries,  might  enable  us 
to  compose  a  history  of  his  dealings  with  these, 
though  no  chronicle  remain  to  tell  it.  The  North- 
man pillaged  the  great  monastery  of  Banchor,*  and 
slaughtered  or  scattered  its  inmates;  he  burned 
Armagh*  and  its  cathedral ;  he  burned  Ferns,*  and 
Kildare*  with  its  famous  church ;  he  sacked  Cork  ;* 
he  wasted  the  whole  of  Connaught.*  He  cast  his 
anchors  in  the  Boyne*  and  Liffey,*  and  then  spread 
his  devastations  inland  over  the  plains  through 
which  those  rivers  flow,  plundering  churches,  mon- 
asteries, villages,  and  carrying  off  the  flocks  and 
herds  as  booty.  In  the  long  course  of  years  no 


THE   NORTHMEN   IN   ENGLAND  35 

part  of  the  island  escaped;  bishops  were  put  to 
death,  sacred  vessels  profaned  and  carried  off,  li- 
braries destroyed.  When  at  length  the  miserable 
population  submitted  from  mere  exhaustion,  and 
when  war  seemed  at  an  end,  for  resistance  was  im- 
possible, and  provisions  were  consumed,  then  the 
invading  tribes  quarreled  with  each  other,  and  a 
new  course  of  conflicts  and  devastations  followed. 

4.  As  to  England,  who  does  not  know  the  ter- 
rible epic,  so  it  may  be  called,  of  the  eighth  and  ninth 
centuries?  How  Ragnar*  Lodbrog,  in  opposition 
to  his  wife  Aslauga's  counsel,  built  two  large  ships 
in  his  pride,  which  were  useless  in  the  hour  of  de- 
feat, when  swiftness  of  flight  was  as  necessary  to 
him  as  vigor  in  attack ;  and  how  these  clumsy  ves- 
sels were  wrecked  on  the  Northumbrian*  coast,  and 
Ragnar  taken  prisoner;  and  lastly,  how  the  bar- 
barous Ella,*  the  prince  of  the  district,  doomed  his 
fallen  enemy  to  die  in  prison  by  the  stings  of  ven- 
omous snakes?  His  Quida,  or  death-song,  as  he  is 
supposed  to  sing  it  in  his  dungeon,  is  preserved,  and 
traces  out  the  history  of  those  savage  exploits  which 
were  his  sole  comfort  when  he  was  giving  up  his 
soul  to  his  Maker.  Fifty-one  times,  as  he  recounts, 
had  he  rallied  his  people  around  his  uplifted  lance ; 
and  he  died  in  the  joyful  thought  that  his  sons 
would  avenge  him.  He  was  not  wrong  in  that 
belief.  Alfred*  was  a  youth  of  nineteen  in  his 
brother's  court,  when  the  news  came  that  eight  kings 
and  twenty  earls,  or  relations  or  friends  of  Ragnar, 


36  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

headed  by  three  of  his  sons,  of  whom  the  cruel  Ing- 
war  and  Hubba  were  two,  had  landed  on  the  east 
coast.  They  moved  to  York,*  gained  possession  of 
Ella,  split  him  into  the  form  of  a  spread  eagle,  and 
rubbed  salt  into  his  wounds.  Next  they  got  posses- 
sion of  Nottingham.*  Then  they  were  back  again 
into  Lincolnshire,*  desolating  and  destroying  the 
whole  face  of  the  country.  They  burned  the  famous 
abbeys  Bardeney*  and  Croyland,*  and  tortured  and 
murdered  the  monks.  Then  they  went  to  Peterbor- 
ough* and  to  Ely,*  where  the  nuns,  according  to 
the  well-known  history,  mutilated  their  faces  to  pre- 
serve their  honor.  Then  they  fought,  defeated,  cap- 
tured, tortured,  and  martyred  St.  Edmund.*  Next 
they  got  possession  of  Reading.*  We  mention 
these  familiar  facts  not  for  their  own  sake,  but  to 
illustrate  that  fearful  celerity  and  almost  caprice 
of  locomotion,  with  which  they  rushed  to  and  fro 
about  the  country.  At  Reading  they  were  met  by 
Alfred,  who  shortly  after  succeeded  to  the  throne 
of  Wessex,*  and  who  in  the  first  year  of  his  royal 
power  fought  eight  pitched  battles  with  them.  Such 
is  our  introduction  to  the  romantic  history  of  that 
celebrated  king.  (The  Northmen  and  Normans  in 
England  and  Ireland  in  Historical  Sketches,  vol.  iii, 
pp.  268-272.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

In  description  of  character,  as  elsewhere,  New- 
man is  concrete.    Study  §§  I  and  2  for  definite,  con- 


QUESTIONS   AND   STUDIES  37 

crete  details.  Though  §§  2,  3,  and  4  are  narrative 
in  form,  they  are  meant  to  illustrate  certain  traits 
of  Northman  warfare.  "  We  mention  these  familiar 
facts  not  for  their  own  sake,  but  to  illustrate  that 
fearful  celerity  and  almost  caprice  of  locomotion, 
with  which  they  rushed  to  and  fro  about  the  coun- 
try "  (§  4)-  To  what  type  of  discourse,  then,  do 
these  paragraphs  belong  (in  scope  or  purpose)  ? 
Observe  the  wealth  of  proper  names.  What  do  they 
add  to  the  narrative?  What  suggestion  is  there  in 
the  rapid  movement  of  the  sentences  in  §§  2,  3,  and 
4?  "Alfred  was  a  youth  of  nineteen,  etc."  (§  4). 
To  what  is  the  quick,  accelerated  movement  of  this 
passage  due?  Would  you  describe  the  style  as 
vivid  ?  Analyze  the  notion  of  "  vividness  "  in  style 
and  determine  for  yourself  the  conditions  on  which 
it  depends. 


V.  THE  DEATH  OF  ST.  BEDE 

HERE  the  beautiful  character  in  life  and  death  df 
St.  Bede*  naturally  occurs  to  the  mind,  who  is,  in 
his  person  and  his  writings,  as  truly  the  pattern  of  a 
Benedictine,  as  is  St.  Thomas*  of  a  Dominican ;  and 
with  an  extract  from  the  letter  of  Cuthbert*  to 
Cuthwin  concerning  his  last  hours,  which,  familiarly 
as  it  is  known,  is  always  pleasant  to  read,  I  break 
off  my  subject  for  the  present. 

"  He  was  exceedingly  oppressed,"  says  Cuthbert 
of  St.  Bede,  "  with  shortness  of  breathing,  though 
without  pain,  before  Easter  Day,  for  about  a  fort- 
night ;  but  he  rallied,  and  was  full  of  joy  and  glad- 
ness, and  gave  thanks  to  Almighty  God  day  and 
night,  and  every  hour,  up  to  Ascension  Day;  and 
he  gave  us,  his  scholars,  daily  lectures,  and  passed 
the  rest  of  the  day  in  singing  the  Psalms,  and  the 
night,  too,  in  joy  and  thanksgiving,  except  the 
scanty  time  which  he  gave  to  sleep.  And  as  soon 
as  he  woke  he  was  busy  in  his  customary  way,  and 
he  never  ceased,  with  uplifted  hands,  giving  thanks 
to  God.  I  solemnly  protest,  never  have  I  seen  or 
heard  of  anyone  who  was  so  diligent  in  thanks- 
giving. 

"  He  sang  that  sentence  of  the  Blessed  Apostle 
Paul,  '  It*  is  a  dreadful  thing  to  fall  into  the  hands 
38 


THE  DEATH   OF   ST.   BEDE  •  39 

of  the  Living  God,'  and  many  other  passages  of 
Scripture,  in  which  he  warned  us  to  shake  off  the 
slumber  of  the  soul,  by  anticipating  our  last  hour. 
And  he  sang  some  verses  of  his  own  in  English  also, 
to  the  effect  that  no  one  could  be  too  well  prepared 
for  his  end,  viz.,  in  calling  to  mind,  before  he  de- 
parts hence,  what  good  or  evil  he  has  done,  and  how 
his  judgment  will  lie.  And  he  sang  too  the  anti- 
phons,  of  which  one  is,  '  O*  King  of  glory,  Lord  of 
Angels,  who  this  day  hast  ascended  in  triumph  above 
all  the  heavens,  leave  us  not  orphans,  but  send  the 
promise  of  the  Father  upon  us,  the  Spirit  of  Truth. 
Alleluia.'  And  when  he  came  to  the  words,  '  leave 
us  not  orphans,'  he  burst  into  tears,  and  wept  much. 
He  said,  too,  '  God*  scourgeth  every  son  whom  He 
receiveth '  and,  with  St.  Ambrose,*  '  I  have  not  so 
lived  as  to  be  ashamed  to  have  been  among  you, 
nor  do  I  fear  to  die,  for  we  have  a  good  Lord.' 

"  In  those  days,  besides  our  lectures  and  the 
Psalmody,  he  was  engaged  in  two  works;  he  was 
translating  into  English  the  Gospel  of  St.  John,  as 
far  as  the  words,  '  But*  what  are  these  among  so 
many '  and  some  extracts  from  the  '  Notae*  of  Isi- 
dore.' On  the  Tuesday  before  Ascension  Day,  he 
began  to  suffer  still  more  in  his  breathing,  and  his 
feet  were  slightly  swollen.  However,  he  went 
through  the  day,  dictating  cheerfully,  and  he  kept 
saying  from  time  to  time,  '  Take  down  what  I  say 
quickly,  for  I  know  not  how  long  I  am  to  last,  or 
whether  my  Maker  will  not  take  me  soon.'  He 


4O  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

seemed  to  us  to  be  quite  aware  of  the  time  of  his 
going,  and  he  passed  that  night  in  giving  of  thanks, 
without  sleeping.  As  soon  as  morning  broke,  that 
is  on  the  Wednesday,  he  urged  us  to  make  haste 
with  the  writing  which  he  had  begun.  We  did  so 
till  nine  o'clock,  when  we  walked  in  procession  with 
the  Relics  of  the  Saints,  according  to  the  usage  of 
that  day.  But  one  of  our  party  said  to  him,  '  Dear- 
est Master,  one  chapter  is  still  wanting ;  can  you 
bear  our  asking  you  about  it  ? '  He  answered,  '  I 
can  bear  it ;  take  your  pen  and  be  ready,  and  write 
quickly.'  At  three  o'clock  he  said  to  me,  '  Run  fast, 
and  call  our  priests,  that  I  may  divide  among  them 
some  little  gifts,  which  I  have  in  my  box.'  When 
I  had  done  this  in  much  agitation,  he  spoke  to  each, 
urging  and  entreating  them  all  to  make  a  point  of 
saying  masses  and  prayers  for  him.  Thus  he  passed 
the  day  in  joy  until  the  evening,  when  the  above- 
named  youth  said  to  him,  '  Dear  master,  there  is  yet 
one  sentence  not  written ! '  He  answered,  '  Write 
quickly/  Presently  the  youth  said,  '  Now  it  is  writ- 
ten ' ;  he  replied,  '  Good,  thou  hast  said  the  truth, 
consummation*  est;  take  my  head  into  thy  hands, 
for  it  is  very  pleasant  to  me  to  sit  facing  my  old 
praying  place,  and  thus  to  call  upon  my  Father.' 
And  so,  on  the  floor  of  his  cell,  he  sang,  '  Glory  be 
to  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,'  and  just  as  he 
had  said,  '  Holy  Ghost '  he  breathed  his  last,  and 
went  to  the  realms  above."  (Mission  of  St.  Bene- 
dict in  Historical  Sketches,  vol.  ii,  p.  428.) 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  4! 


Questions  and  Studies 

This  passage  forms  the  conclusion  of  Newman's 
essay  on  The  Mission  of  St.  Benedict,  written  in 
1858.  It  gives  us  what  is  apparently  Newman's  own 
translation  or  paraphrase  of  Cuthbert's  letter  to 
Cuthwin.  Other  versions  of  the  same  letter  may  be 
found  in  the  Bohn  edition  of  Bede's  Ecclesiastical 
History  and  in  Butler's  Lives  of  the  Saints,  May  27. 

Does  the  narrative  show  suspense  and  climax? 
unity  ?  How  is  unity  safeguarded  ?  Is  there  proper 
massing  of  details  ?  Note  the  repeated  "  ands." 
What  effect  have  they  on  the  style  of  the  passage? 
Is  the  effect  of  the  passage  due  to  the  incidents 
themselves  or  to  the  manner  in  which  they  are  told 
or  to  both?  Do  you  find  the  narrative  interesting? 
If  so,  what  do  you  think  makes  it  interesting? 

In  composition,  as  in  every  other  art,  success  begins 
with  imitation.  (Read  the  excellent  Introduction  to  Imi- 
tation and  Analysis  by  F.  P.  Donnelly,  S.J.  (Allyn  and 
Bacon).  But  a  word  of  caution  is  necessary.  Literary 
imitation  of  the  right  kind  does  not  aim  at  reproducing 
the  intimately  personal  traits  of  another's  writing.  It 
aims  rather  to  make  another's  writing  yield  up  under 
close  scrutiny  and  analysis  certain  laws,  principles,  meth- 
ods, and  devices  of  expression  of  which  no  writer  has  a 
monopoly,  but  which  lie  at  the  very  root  of  all  effective 
speech.  Classic  literature  has  other  and  better  uses  than 
to  supply  the  student  with  models  of  good  writing,  but 
the  student  of  composition  as  such  turns  to  classic  litera- 
ture precisely  because  it  realizes  with  obvious  success 


42  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

those  very  laws  and  methods  of  expression  which  he 
himself  must  attend  to  in  the  presentation  of  his  own 
thought  under  penalty  of  failure.  From  Selections  i-v 
may  be  gathered  practical  hints  regarding  such  elements 
of  narrative  writing  as  suspense  and  climax  (n,  in), 
unity  of  treatment  (i),  background  (in),  character-por- 
trayal (in,  rv,  v),  dialogue  (in,  v),  vividness  of  style 
(11,  in),  accelerated  movement  of  style  (iv). 


B.   DESCRIPTION 

i.  Definition.  Description  is  a  form  of  dis- 
course which  pictures  individual,  concrete  objects, 
material  or  spiritual.  Note  the  terms  of  this 
definition : 

(a)  Pictures.      Description     is     portrayal     by 
means  of  words,  as  painting  is  portrayal  by  means 
of  color.    Hence  the  perfect  analogy  between  liter- 
ary description  and  the  pictorial  arts.    Problems  of 
scale,  viewpoint,  perspective,  light  and  shadow,  se- 
lection of  details,  etc.,  confront  the  word-artist  just 
as  they  do  the  painter. 

(b)  Individual,   Concrete   Objects.     Exposition 
deals  with  types,  classes,  general  ideas  and  objects ; 
in  other  words,  it  deals  with  things,  not  precisely 
as  they  strike  the  senses,  but  as  modified  by  various 
processes  of  mental  abstraction  and  classification. 
Description,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an  attempt  to 
fix  in  words  the  very  aspect  or  outward  seeming 
of  an  object  as  it  impresses  the  eye  or  ear  or  other 
sense.     Therefore  description  looks  to  the  individ- 
ual, exposition,  to  the  type.    One  exception  must  be 
noted.     Language  can  attempt  to  give  a  meaning 

43 


44  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

or  interpretation  to  a  concrete  thing.  In  this  case, 
though  one  deals  with  the  concrete,  the  result  is 
exposition,  not  description. 

(c)  Material  or  Spiritual.  All  concrete  objects 
are  not  material.  A  man's  character  is  a  thing  in- 
dividual, concrete,  and  also  spiritual.  Character, 
therefore,  or  a  particular  virtue  or  vice  or  mental 
state  in  an  individual  or  any  other  immaterial  reality 
may  be  an  object  of  description. ' 

2.  Types,  (a)  Description  by  Inventory.  An 
accurate,  mechanical  enumeration  of  details  without 
literary  embellishment.  This  is  the  type  of  descrip- 
tion ordinarily  met  with  in  guide-books,  catalogues, 
text-books,  encyclopedias,  etc. 

(&)  Description  by  Impression.  Here  the  aim  is 
to  reproduce  in  words  the  dominant  impression 
made  on  the  observer  by  the  object  or  scene  before 
him.  Looking  out,  for  example,  over  a  stretch  of 
bleak,  uninviting  country,  I  may  sum  up  all  my  im- 
pressions in  the  one  fundamental  note  of  cheerless- 
ness.  If  now  I  proceed  to  describe  the  scene  with 
the  design  that  my  word-picture  of  it  impress  others 
as  the  reality  impressed  me,  I  shall  embody  in  my 
description  chiefly  such  details  as  heighten  the  im- 
pression of  cheerlessness,  while  details  that  make 
for  other  effects  will  be  excluded.  Impressionistic 
portrayal  is,  then,  necessarily  personal  and  subjec- 
tive and  as  such  lends  itself  at  once  to  literary 
treatment. 

(c)    Description  by  Suggestion.    A  few  details, 


DESCRIPTION  45 

but  these  of  high  connotative  or  suggestive  power, 
make  up  the  portrayal.  The  virtue  of  suggestion 
as  a  literary  method  lies  in  the  stimulus  it  affords 
the  imagination,  which  responds  by  automatically 
conjuring  up  images,  sensations,  past  experiences, 
etc.,  linked  by  subtle  bonds  of  association  with  the 
few  explicit  details  set  down  on  paper.  Because  the 
imagination  is  thus  engaged,  the  result  is  a  vivid- 
ness of  portrayal  not  often  realized  when  details  are 
multiplied.  Classic  instances  of  this  type  of  de- 
scription are  found  in  Coleridge's  Ancient  Mariner: 

"  All  in  a  hot  and  copper  sky 
The  bloody  sun  at  noon 
Right  up  above  the  ship  did  stand 
No  bigger  than  the  moon." 

3.  Problems.  Three  problems  are  before  us 
when  we  describe,  —  those  of  (a)  viewpoint,  (b) 
outline  or  fundamental  image,  and  (c)  choice  of 
details. 

(a)  Point  of  View.  The  landscape-painter,  be- 
fore starting  to  put  a  scene  on  canvas,  first  selects 
his  point  of  view.  In  like  manner  the  portrayer  in 
words  must  take  up  and  retain  some  definite  view- 
point with  reference  to  the  object  described ;  other- 
wise there  is  no  unity  of  portrayal,  no  clear  and 
consistent  picture.  Still,  a  shift  of  viewpoint  may 
be  legitimate  and  even  necessary  at  times,  as  in  de- 
scribing the  interior  of  a  house ;  but  directly  or  in- 
directly, the  shift  must  be  brought  to  the  reader's 
notice. 


46  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

(b)  Fundamental  Image.    Answering  to  a  rough 
outline  map  in  geography,   some  one  broad,  out- 
standing trait  of  the  object  portrayed  is  seized  upon 
to  serve  as  a  setting  or  framework  for  the  rest  of 
the  description.    Such  broad,  outstanding  trait  may 
not  easily  be  found,  nor  is  the  presence  of  it  essen- 
tial to  good  description.    Sometimes  by  fundamental 
image  is  understood  merely  the  first  or  general  im- 
pression which  the  object  or  scene  makes  upon  the 
observer. 

(c)  Choice  of  Details.    This  will  be  conditioned 
by  the  point  of  view,  by  the  fundamental  image,  and 
especially  by  the  unity   of   impression   which   the 
writer  seeks  to  create.    It  is  plain  that  all  the  know- 
able  particulars  of  a  given  object  cannot  be  em- 
bodied in  a  description.    A  selection  must  be  made 
in  accordance  with  a  principle  of  choice. 

4.  Style.  Success  in  descriptive  writing  is  very 
much  a  matter  of  choice  of  words.  The  picturing 
resources  of  language  must  be  drawn  upon.  Such 
are:  (a)  the  epithet  or  descriptive  adjective  — 
"  better  than  pages  of  inventory  description  when 
vividness  of  conception  is  needed"  (Genung) ; 
(&)  figures,  as  simile,  metaphor,  personification, 
metonymy,  etc.;  (c)  the  various  sound-effects  of 
words,  as  melody,  rhythm,  alliteration,  etc. 

Therefore  picturesqueness  or  vividness  is  the  typ- 
ical quality  of  good  descriptive  writing. 


VI.    ATTICA 

A  CONFINED  triangle,  perhaps  fifty  miles  its  great- 
est length,  and  thirty  its  greatest  breadth ;  two 
elevated  rocky  barriers  meeting  at  an  angle;  three 
prominent  'mountains,  commanding  the  plain, — 
Parnes,*  Pentelicus,*  and  Hymettus;*  an  unsatis- 
factory soil ;  some  streams,  not  always  full ;  —  such 
is  about  the  report  which  the  agent  of  a  London 
Company  would  have  made  of  Attica.*  He  would 
report  that  the  climate  was  mild,  the  hills  were 
limestone ;  there  was  plenty  of  good  marble ;  more 
pasture  land  than  at  first  survey  might  have  been 
expected,  sufficient  certainly  for  sheep  and  goats; 
fisheries  productive;  silver  mines  once,  but  long 
since  worked  out;  figs  fair;  oil  first-rate;  olives 
in  profusion.  But  what  he  would  not  think  of  not- 
ing down  was,  that  that  olive  tree  was  so  choice  in 
nature  and  so  noble  in  shape  that  it  excited  a  re- 
ligious veneration,  and  that  it  took  so  kindly  to  the 
light  soil  as  to  expand  into  woods  upon  the  open 
plain,  and  to  climb  up  and  fringe  the  hills.  He 
would  not  think  of  writing  word  to  his  employer 
how  that  clear  air,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  brought 
out,  yet  blended  and  subdued,  the  colors  on  the 
marble,  till  they  had  a  softness  and  harmony,  for 

47 


48  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

all  their  richness,  which  in  a  picture  looks  exagger- 
ated, yet  is  after  all  within  the  truth.  He  would 
not  tell  how  that  same  delicate  and  brilliant  at- 
mosphere freshened  up  the  pale  olive,  until  the  olive 
forgot  its  monotony,  and  its  cheek  glowed  like  the 
arbutus  or  beech  of  the  Umbrian*  hills.  He  would 
say  nothing  of  the  thyme  and  thousand  fragrant 
herbs  which  carpeted  Hymettus;  he  would  hear 
nothing  of  the  hum  of  its  bees,  nor  take  much  ac- 
count of  the  rare  flavor  of  its  honey,  since  Gozo* 
and  Minorca*  were  sufficient  for  the  English  de- 
mand. He  would  look  over  the  ^Egean*  from  the 
height  he  had  ascended ;  he  would  follow  with  his 
eye  the  chain  of  islands,  which,  starting  from  the 
Sunian*  headland,  seemed  to  offer  the  fabled  divin- 
ities of  Attica,  when  they  would  visit  their  Ionian* 
cousins,  a  sort  of  viaduct  thereto  across  the  sea; 
but  that  fancy  would  not  occur  to  him,  nor  any 
admiration  of  the  dark  violet  billows  with  their 
white  edges  down  below;  nor  of  those  graceful, 
fan-like  jets  of  silver  upon  the  rocks,  which  slowly 
rise  aloft  like  water  spirits  from  the  deep,  then 
shiver  and  break,  and  spread  and  shroud  themselves, 
and  disappear,  in  a  soft  mist  of  foam;  nor  of  the 
gentle,  incessant  heaving  and  panting  of  the  whole 
liquid  plain ;  nor  of  the  long  waves,  keeping  steady 
time,  like  a  line  of  soldiery,  as  they  resound  upon 
the  hollow  shore  —  he  would  not  deign  to  notice 
that  restless  living  element  at  all,  except  to  bless 
his  stars  that  he  was  not  upon  it.  Nor  the  distinct 


ATTICA  49 

detail,  nor  the  refined  coloring,  nor  the  graceful  out- 
line and  roseate  golden  line  of  the  jutting  crags, 
nor  the  bold  shadows  cast  from  Otus*  or  Laurium* 
by  the  declining  sun  —  our  agent  of  a  mercantile 
firm  would  not  value  these  matters  even  at  a  low 
figure.  Rather  we  must  turn  for  the  sympathy  we 
seek  to  yon  pilgrim  student,  come  from  a  semi-bar- 
barous land  to  that  small  corner  of  the  earth,  as  to 
a  shrine,  where  he  might  take  his  fill  of  gazing  on 
those  emblems  and  coruscations  of  invisible,  unorig- 
inate  perfection.  It  was  that  stranger  from  a  re- 
mote province,  from  Britain*  or  from  Mauritania,* 
who  in  a  scene  so  different  from  that  of  his  chilly, 
woody  swamps  or  of  his  fiery,  choking  sands, 
learned  at  once  what  a  real  University  must  be,  by 
coming  to  understand  the  sort  of  country  which 
was  its  suitable  home.  (Historical  Sketches,  vol. 
iii,  p.  20.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

What  type  of  description  does  the  passage,  as  a 
whole,  illustrate?  Justify  your  answer.  Is  there 
any  instance  of  description  by  inventory?  Indicate, 
if  possible,  a  fundamental  image  or  its  equivalent. 
(Recall  that  a  fundamental  image  is  either  some 
broad,  inclusive  trait  serving  the  purpose  of  a 
framework  or  core  for  the  details  of  the  description, 
or  else  the  first  or  general  impression  made  by  the 
object  to  be  described.)  What  feature  of  Attica 
does  the  author  emphasize  as  the  most  significant? 


5O  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN  ' 

Is  the  point  of  view  fixed  or  shifting?  Why  does 
the  agent  of  the  London  Company  fail  to  appreciate 
certain  aspects  of  the  country  ?  Why  do  these  same 
aspects  appeal  to  the  pilgrim  student  ?  What  do  you 
think  of  the  contrasted  viewpoints  of  the  London 
agent  and  the  pilgrim  student  as  a  descriptive 
device  ? 

Unity.  Any  irrelevant  or  useless  details?  Co- 
herence. Are  the  details  ordered  according  to  a 
principle  or  plan  ?  Mass  or  Emphasis.  Is  the  plac- 
ing of  the  details  effective,  i.e.,  with  reference  to 
the  impression  which  the  writer  wishes  to  convey? 
A  well-massed  description  will  require,  among  other 
things,  that  beginning  and  end  be  such  as  to  impress 
the  reader. 

Discuss  the  use  of  epithet,  of  imagery,  of  rhythm. 
Do  these  elements  help  the  description  to  realize  its 
purpose  and  in  what  way? 


VII.    SICCA  VENERIA 

i.  IN  no  province  of  the  vast  Roman  empire,  as 
it  existed  in  the  middle  of  the  third  century,  did 
nature  wear  a  richer  or  a  more  joyous  garb  than 
she  displayed  in  Proconsular  Africa,  a  territory  of 
which  Carthage  was  the  metropolis,  and  Sicca 
might  be  considered  the  center.  The  latter  city, 
which  was  the  seat  of  a  Roman  colony,  lay  upon 
a  precipitous  or  steep  bank,  which  led  up  along  a 
chain  of  hills  to  a  mountainous  tract  in  the  direction 
of  the  north  and  east.  In  striking  contrast  with  this 
wild  and  barren  region  was  the  view  presented  by 
the  west  and  south,  where  for  many  miles  stretched 
a  smiling  champaign,  exuberantly  wooded,  and  va- 
ried with  a  thousand  hues,  till  it  was  terminated  at 
length  by  the  successive  tiers  of  the  Atlas,  and 
the  dim  and  fantastic  forms  of  the  Numidian* 
mountains.  The  immediate  neighborhood  of  the 
city  was  occupied  by  gardens,  vineyards,  cornfields, 
and  meadows,  crossed  or  encircled  here  by  noble 
avenues  of  trees  or  the  remains  of  primeval  forests, 
there  by  the  clustering  groves  which  wealth  and 
luxury  had  created.  This  spacious  plain,  though 
level  when  compared  with  the  northern  heights  by 
which  the  city  was  backed,  and  the  peaks  and  crags 


52  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

which  skirted  the  southern  and  western  horizon, 
was  discovered,  as  light  and  shadow  traveled  with 
the  sun,  to  be  diversified  with  hill  and  dale,  upland 
and  hollow;  while  orange  gardens,  orchards,  olive 
and  palm  plantations  held  their  appropriate  sites  on 
the  slopes  or  the  bottoms.  Through  the  mass  of 
green,  which  extended  still  more  thickly  from  the 
west  round  to  the  north,  might  be  seen  at  intervals 
two  solid  causeways  tracking  their  persevering 
course  to  the  Mediterranean  coast,  the  one  to  the 
ancient  rival  of  Rome,  the  other  to  Hippo*  Regius 
in  Numidia.  Tourists  might  have  complained  of 
the  absence  of  water  from  the  scene ;  but  the  native 
peasant  would  have  explained  to  them  that  the  eye 
alone  had  reason  to  be  discontented,  and  that  the 
thick  foliage  and  the  uneven  surface  did  but  conceal 
what  mother  earth  with  no  niggard  bounty  supplied. 
The  Bagradas,*  issuing  from  the  spurs  of  the  At- 
las, made  up  in  depth  what  it  wanted  in  breadth  of 
bed,  and  plowed  the  rich  and  yielding  mold  with 
its  rapid  stream,  till,  after  passing  Sicca  in  its  way, 
it  fell  into  the  sea  near  Carthage.  It  was  but  the 
largest  of  a  multitude  of  others,  most  of  them 
tributaries  to  it,  deepening  as  much  as  they  in- 
creased it.  While  channels  had  been  cut  from  the 
larger  rills  for  the  irrigation  of  the  open  land, 
brooks,  which  sprang  up  in  the  gravel  which  lay 
against  the  hills,  had  been  artificially  banked  with 
cut  stones  or  paved  with  pebbles;  and,  where 
neither  springs  nor  rivulets  were  to  be  found,  wells 


SICCA   VENERIA  53 

had  been  dug,  sometimes  to  the  vast  depth  of  as 
much  as  200  fathoms,  with  such  effect  that  the 
spurting  column  of  water  had  in  some  instances 
drowned  the  zealous  workmen  who  had  been  the 
first  to  reach  it.  And,  while  such  were  the  resources 
of  less  favored  localities  or  seasons,  profuse  rains 
descended  over  the  whole  region  for  one  half  of  the 
year,  and  the  thick  summer  dews  compensated  by 
night  for  the  daily  tribute  extorted  by  an  African 
sun. 

2.  At  various  distances  over  the  undulating  sur- 
face, and  through  the  woods,  were  seen  the  villas 
and  the  hamlets  of  that  happy  land.  It  was  an  age 
when  the  pride  of  architecture  had  been  indulged 
to  the  full;  edifices,  public  and  private,  mansions 
and  temples,  ran  off  far  away  from  each  market- 
town  or  borough,  as  from  a  center,  some  of  stone 
or  marble,  but  most  of  them  of  that  composite  of 
fine  earth,  rammed  tight  by  means  of  frames,  for 
which  the  Saracens  were  afterwards  famous,  and 
of  which  specimens  remain  to  this  day,  as  hard  in 
surface,  as  sharp  at  the  angles,  as  when  they  first 
were  finished.  Every  here  and  there,  on  hill  or 
crag,  crowned  with  basilicas  and  temples,  radiant 
in  the  sun,  might  be  seen  the  cities  of  the  province 
or  of  its  neighborhood,  Thibursicumbur,  Thugga, 
Laribus,  Siguessa,  Suf etula,  and  many  others ;  while 
in  the  far  distance,  on  an  elevated  table-land  under 
the  Atlas,  might  be  discerned  the  Colonia*  Scilli- 
tana,  famous  about  fifty  years  before  the  date  of 


54  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

which  we  write  for  the  martyrdom  of  Speratus*  and 
his  companions,  who  were  beheaded  at  the  order  of 
the  proconsul  for  refusing  to  swear  by  the  genius 
of  Rome  and  the  emperor. 

3.  If  the  spectator  now  takes  his  stand,  not  in 
Sicca  itself,  but  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the 
southeast,  on  the  hill  or  knoll  on  which  was  placed 
the  cottage  of  Agellius,  the  city  itself  will  enter 
into  the  picture.  Its  name,  Sicca  Veneria,  if  it  be 
derived  from  the  Sochothbenoth,*  or  "  tents  of  the 
daughters,"  mentioned  by  the  inspired  writer  as 
an  object  of  pagan  worship  in  Samaria,  shows  that 
it  owed  its  foundation  to  the  Phoenician,  colonists  of 
the  country.  At  any  rate  the  Punic*  deities  retained 
their  hold  upon  the  place ;  the  temples  of  the  Tyrian 
Hercules*  and  of  Saturn,  the  scene  of  annual  hu- 
man sacrifices,  were  conspicuous  in  its  outline, 
though  these  and  all  other  religious  buildings  in  it 
looked  small  beside  the  mysterious  antique  shrine 
devoted  to  the  sensual  rites  of  the  Syrian  Astarte. 
Public  baths  and  a  theater,  a  capitol,  imitative  of 
Rome,  a  gymnasium,  the  long  outline  of  a  portico, 
an  equestrian  statue  in  brass  of  the  Emperor  Sev- 
erus,*  were  grouped  together  above  the  streets  of 
a  city,  which,  narrow  and  winding,  ran  up  and 
down  across  the  hill.  In  its  center  an  extraordinary 
spring  threw  up  incessantly  several  tons  of  water 
every  minute,  and  was  inclosed  by  the  superstitious 
gratitude  of  the  inhabitants  with  the  peristylium  of 
a  sacred  place.  At  the  extreme  back,  towards  the 


SICCA   VENERIA  55 

north,  which  could  not  be  seen  from  the  point  of 
view  where  we  last  stationed  ourselves,  there  was 
a  sheer  descent  of  rock,  bestowing  on  the  city,  when 
it  was  seen  at  a  distance  on  the  Mediterranean  side, 
the  same  bold  and  striking  appearance  which  at- 
taches to  Castro  Giovanni,  the  ancient  Enna,  in 
the  heart  of  Sicily. 

4.  And  now,  withdrawing  our  eyes  from  the 
panorama,  whether  in  its  distant  or  nearer  objects, 
if  we  would  at  length  contemplate  the  spot  itself 
from  which  we  have  been  last  surveying  it,  we  shall 
find  almost  as  much  to  repay  attention,  and  to  elicit 
admiration.  We  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  farm  of 
some  wealthy  proprietor,  consisting  of  a  number  of 
fields  and  gardens,  separated  from  each  other  by 
hedges  of  cactus  or  the  aloe.  At  the  foot  of  the 
hill,  which  sloped  down  on  the  side  furthest  from 
Sicca  to  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  rich  and  turbid 
river  of  which  we  have  spoken,  a  large  yard  or 
garden,  intersected  with  a  hundred  artificial  rills, 
was  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the  beautiful  and 
odoriferous  khennah*  A  thick  grove  of  palms 
seemed  to  triumph  in  the  refreshment  of  the  water's 
side,  and  lifted  up  their  thankful  boughs  towards 
heaven.  The  barley  harvest  in  the  fields  which 
lay  higher  up  the  hill  was  over,  or  at  least  was 
finishing;  and  all  that  remained  of  the  crop  was 
the  incessant  and  importunate  chirping  of  the 
cicadae*  and  the  rude  booths  of  reeds  and  bul- 
rushes, now  left  to  wither,  in  which  the  peasant 


56  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

boys  found  shelter  from  the  sun,  while  in  an  earlier 
month  they  frightened  from  the  grain  the  myriads 
of  linnets,  goldfinches,  and  other  small  birds  who, 
as  in  other  countries,  contested  with  the  human  pro- 
prietor the  possession  of  it.  On  the  southwestern 
slope  lies  a  neat  and  carefully  dressed  vineyard,  the 
vine-stakes  of  which,  dwarfish  as  they  are,  already 
cast  long  shadows  on  the  eastern  side.  Slaves  are 
scattered  over  it,  testifying  to  the  scorching  power 
of  the  sun  by  their  broad  petasus*  and  to  its  op- 
pressive heat  by  the  scanty  subKgariubn*  which 
reached  from  the  belt  or  girdle  to  the  knees.  They 
are  engaged  in  cutting  off  useless  twigs  to  which  the 
last  showers  of  spring  have  given  birth,  and  are 
twisting  those  which  promise  fruit  into  positions 
where  they  will  be  safe  both  from  the  breeze  and 
from  the  sun.  Everything  gives  token  of  that  gra- 
cious and  happy  season  which  the  great  Latin  poets 
have  hymned  in  their  beautiful  but  heathen  strains ; 
when,  after  the  heavy  rains,  and  raw  mists,  and 
piercing  winds,  and  fitful  sun-gleams  of  a  long  six 
months,  the  mighty  mother  manifests  herself  anew, 
and  pours  out  the  resources  of  her  innermost  being 
for  the  life  and  enjoyment  of  every  portion  of  the 
vast  whole.  (Callista,  chap,  i.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

What  impression  does  the  writer  wish  to  convey 
by  the  description  as  a  whole?    In  view  of  this  im- 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  57 

pression,  are  the  details  well  chosen  ?  (  Some  analy- 
sis of  the  details  will  here  be  necessary.)  What 
relation  does  the  opening-  sentence  bear  to  the  rest 
of  the  description?  Sketch  on  paper  the  relative 
positions  of  the  principal  objects  or  points  of  inter- 
est in  the  picture.  The  aim  of  description,  as  a  lit- 
erary type,  is  to  suggest  clear  mental  pictures.  Does 
this  description  enable  you  to  form  a  clear  mental 
picture  of  Sicca  and  its  neighborhood? 

Unity.  Apply  the  usual  tests.  Note  the  careful 
unity  of  the  paragraphs.  Coherence.  Discuss  the 
successive  viewpoints,  their  principle  of  arrange- 
ment, the  devices  employed  in  passing  from  one 
to  another,  etc.  Are  the  details  always  consistent 
with  their  respective  viewpoints  ?  Emphasis.  Why 
is  the  country  about  Sicca  described  first  ?  Why  are 
farm  and  vineyard  described  last?  Are  these  em- 
phatic arrangements?  Test  the  beginning  of  the 
paragraphs  for  paragraph-emphasis. 

Make  a  written  outline  of  the  description,  distin- 
guishing the  various  viewpoints  and  the  more  im- 
portant objects  seen  from  each. 


VIII.    THE  LOCUST  PLAGUE 

1.  His   [Juba's]    finger  was  directed  to  a  spot 
where,  amid  the  thick  foliage,  the  gleam  of  a  pool 
or  of  a  marsh  was  visible.     The  various  waters 
round  about  issuing  from  the  gravel,  or  drained 
from  the  nightly  damps,  had  run  into  a  hollow, 
filled  with  the  decaying  vegetation  of  former  years, 
and  were  languidly  filtered  out  into  a  brook,  more 
healthy  than  the  vast  reservoir  itself.     Its  banks 
were  bordered  with  a  deep,  broad  layer  of  mud,  a 
transition    substance    between    the    rich    vegetable 
matter  which  it  once  had  been,  and  the  multitudi- 
nous world  of  insect  life  which  it  was  becoming. 
A  cloud  or  mist  at  this  time  was  hanging  over  it, 
high  in  air.    A  harsh  and  shrill  sound,  a  whizzing 
or  a  chirping,  proceeded  from  that  cloud  to  the  ear 
of  the  attentive  listener.     What  these  indications 
portended  was  plain.    "  There,"  said  Juba,  "  is  what 
will  tell  more  against  you  than  imperial  edict,  in- 
former, or  proconsular  apparitor;   and  no  work  of 
mine." 

2.  He  turned  down  the  bank  and  disappeared. 
Agellius  and  his  guest  looked  at  each  other  in  dis- 
may.    "  It  is  the  locusts,"  they  whispered  to  each 
other  as  they  went  back  into  the  cottage. 


THE   LOCUST   PLAGUE  59 

3.  The  plague  of  locusts,  one  of  the  most  awful 
visitations  to  which  the  countries  included  in  the 
Roman  empire  were  exposed,  extended  from  the 
Atlantic  to  Ethiopia,  from  Arabia  to  India,  and 
from  Ihe  Nile  and  Red  Sea  to  Greece  and  the  north 
of  Asia  Minor.  Instances  are  recorded  in  history 
of  clouds  of  the  devastating  insect  crossing  the 
Black  Sea  to  Poland,  and  the  Mediterranean  to 
Lombardy.  It  is  as  numerous  in  its  species  as  it 
is  wide  in  its  range  of  territory.  Brood  follows 
brood,  with  a  sort  of  family  likeness,  yet  with  dis- 
tinct attributes,  as  we  read  in  the  prophets  of  the 
Old  Testament,  from  whom  Bochart*  tells  us  it  is 
possible  to  enumerate  as  many  as  ten  kinds.  It 
wakens  into  existence  and  activity  as  early  as  the 
month  of  March ;  but  instances  are  not  wanting, 
as  in  our  present  history,  of  its  appearance  as  late 
as  June.  Even  one  flight  comprises  myriads  upon 
myriads  passing  imagination,  to  which  the  drops  of 
rain  or  the  sands  of  the  sea  are  the  only  fit  com- 
parison ;  and  hence  it  is  almost  a  proverbial  mode 
of  expression  in  the  East  (as  may  be  illustrated  by 
the  sacred  pages  to  which  we  just  now  referred), 
by  way  of  describing  a  vast  invading  army,  to  liken 
it  to  the  locusts.  So  dense  are  they,  when  upon 
the  wing,  that  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  they  hide 
the  sun,  from  which  circumstance  indeed  their  name 
in  Arabic  is  derived.  And  so  ubiquitous  are  they 
when  they  have  alighted  on  the  earth,  that  they 
simply  cover  or  clothe  its  surface. 


60  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

4.  This  last  characteristic  is  stated  in  the  sacred 
account  of  the  plagues*  of  Egypt,  where  their  fac- 
ulty of  devastation  is  also  mentioned.     The  cor- 
rupting fly  and  the  bruising  and  prostrating  hail  pre- 
ceded them  in  the  series  of  visitations,  but  they 
came  to  do  the  work  of  ruin  more  thoroughly.    For 
not  only  the  crops  and  fruits,  but  the  foliage  of  the 
forest  itself,  nay,  the  small  twigs  and  the  bark  of 
the  trees  are  the  victims  of  their  curious  and  ener- 
getic rapacity.    They  have  been  known  even  to  gnaw 
the  door-posts  of  the  houses.    Nor  do  they  execute 
their  task  in  so  slovenly  a  way,  that,  as  they  have 
succeeded  other  plagues,  so  they  may  have  succes- 
sors themselves.    They  take  pains  to  spoil  what  they 
leave.     Like  the  Harpies,*  they  smear  everything 
that  they  touch  with  a  miserable  slime,  which  has 
the  effect  of  a  virus  in  corroding,  or,  as  some  say, 
in  scorching  and  burning.     And  then,  perhaps,  as 
if  all  this  were  little,  when  they  can  do  nothing  else, 
they  die;    as  if  out  of  sheer  malevolence  to  man, 
for  the  poisonous  elements  of  their  nature  are  then 
let  loose  and  dispersed  abroad,  and  create  a  pesti- 
lence;  and  they  manage  to  destroy  many  more  by 
their  death  than  in  their  life. 

5.  Such  are  the  locusts,  —  whose  existence  the 
ancient  heretics  brought  forward  as  their  palmary 
proof  that  there  was  an  evil  creator,  and  of  whom 
an  Arabian  writer  shows  his  national  horror,  when 
he  says  that  they  have  the  head  of  a  horse,  the  eyes 
of  an  elephant,  the  neck  of  a  bull,  the  horns  of  a 


THE   LOCUST   PLAGUE  6l 

stag,  the  breast  of  a  lion,  the  belly  of  a  scorpion, 
the  wings  of  an  eagle,  the  legs  of  a  camel,  the  feet 
of  an  ostrich,  and  the  tail  of  a  serpent. 

6.  And  now  they  are  rushing  upon  a  considerable 
tract  of  that  beautiful  region  of  which  we  have 
spoken  with  such  admiration.  The  swarm  to  which 
Juba  pointed  grew  and  grew  till  it  became  a  com- 
pact body,  as  much  as  a  furlong  square ;  yet  it  was 
but  the  vanguard  of  a  series  of  similar  hosts,  formed 
one  after  another  out  of  the  hot  mold  or  sand,  rising 
into  the  air  like  clouds,  enlarging  into  a  dusky  can- 
opy, and  then  discharged  against  the  fruitful  plain. 
At  length  the  huge  innumerous  mass  was  put  into 
motion,  and  began  its  career,  darkening  the  face 
of  day.  As  became  an  instrument  of  divine  power, 
it  seemed  to  have  no  volition  of  its  own ;  it  was  set 
off,  it  drifted,  with  the  wind,  and  thus  made  north- 
wards, straight  for  Sicca.  Thus  they  advanced, 
host  after  host,  for  a  time  wafted  on  the  air,  and 
gradually  declining  to  the  earth,  while  fresh  broods 
were  carried  over  the  first,  and  neared  the  earth, 
after  a  longer  flight,  in  their  turn.  For  twelve  miles 
did  they  extend  from  front  to  rear,  and  their  whiz- 
zing and  hissing  could  be  heard  for  six  miles  on 
every  side  of  them.  The  bright  sun,  though  hidden 
by  them,  illumined  their  bodies,  and  was  reflected 
from  their  quivering  wings;  and  as  they  heavily 
fell  earthward,  they  seemed  like  the  innumerable 
flakes  of  a  yellow-colored  snow.  And  like  snow 
did  they  descend,  a  living  carpet,  or  rather  pall, 


62  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

upon  fields,  crops,  gardens,  copses,  groves,  or- 
chards, vineyards,  olive  woods,  orangeries,  palm 
plantations,  and  the  deep  forests,  sparing  nothing 
within  their  reach,  and  where  there  was  nothing  to 
devour,  lying  helpless  in  drifts,  or  crawling  forward 
obstinately,  as  they  best  might,  with  the  hope  of 
prey.  They  could  spare  their  hundred  thousand 
soldiers  twice  or  thrice  over,  and  not  miss  them; 
their  masses  filled  the  bottoms  of  the  ravines  and 
hollow  ways,  impeding  the  traveler  as  he  rode  for- 
ward on  his  journey,  and  trampled  by  thousands 
under  his  horse-hoofs.  In  vain  was  all  this  over- 
throw and  waste  by  the  roadside ;  in  vain  their  loss 
in  river,  pool,  and  watercourse.  The  poor  peasants 
hastily  dug  pits  and  trenches  as  their  enemy  came 
on ;  in  vain  they  filled  them  from  the  wells  or  with 
lighted  stubble.  Heavily  and  thickly  did  the  locusts 
fall;  they  were  lavish  of  their  lives;  they  choked 
the  flame  and  the  water,  which  destroyed  them  the 
while,  and  the  vast  living  hostile  armament  still 
moved  on. 

7.  They  moved  right  on  like  soldiers  in  their 
ranks,  stopping  at  nothing,  and  straggling  for  noth- 
ing; they  carried  a  broad  furrow  or  wheal  all 
across  the  country,  black  and  loathsome,  while  it 
was  as  green  and  smiling  on  each  side  of  them  and 
in  front,  as  it  had  been  before  they  came.  Before 
them,  in  the  language  of  prophets,  was  a  paradise, 
and  behind  them  a  desert.  They  are  daunted  by 
nothing;  they  surmount  walls  and  hedges,  and  en- 


THE   LOCUST   PLAGUE  63 

ter  inclosed  gardens  or  inhabited  houses.  A  rare 
and  experimental  vineyard  has  been  planted  in  a 
sheltered  grove.  The  high  winds  of  Africa  will 
not  commonly  allow  the  light  trellis  or  the  slim 
pole;  but  here  the  lofty  poplar  of  Campania*  has 
been  possible,  on  which  the  vine  plant  mounts  so 
many  yards  into  the  air  that  the  poor  grape-gath- 
erers bargain  for  a  funeral  pile  and  a  tomb  as  one 
of  the  conditions  of  their  engagement.  The  locusts 
have  done  what  the  winds  and  lightning  could  not 
do,  and  the  whole  promise  of  the  vintage,  leaves 
and  all,  is  gone,  and  the  slender  stems  are  left  bare. 
There  is  another  yard,  less  uncommon,  but  still 
tended  with  more  than  common  care;  each  plant 
is  kept  within  due  bounds  by  a  circular  trench  round 
it,  and  by  upright  canes  on  which  it  is  to  trail ;  in 
an  hour  the  solicitude  and  long  toil  of  the  vine- 
dresser are  lost,  and  his  pride  humbled.  There  is 
a  smiling  farm;  another  sort  of  vine,  of  remark- 
able character,  is  found  against  the  farmhouse. 
This  vine  springs  from  one  root,  and  has  clothed 
and  matted  with  its  many  branches  the  four  walls. 
The  whole  of  it  is  covered  thick  with  long  clusters, 
which  another  month  will  ripen.  On  every  grape 
and  leaf  there  is  a  locust.  Into  the  dry  caves  and 
pits,  carefully  strewed  with  straw,  the  harvest-men 
have  (safely,  as  they  thought  just  now)  been  lodg- 
ing the  far-famed  African  wheat.  One  grain  or 
root  shoots  up  into  ten,  twenty,  fifty,  eighty,  nay, 
three  or  four  hundred  stalks ;  sometimes  the  stalks 


64  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

have  two  ears  apiece,  and  these  shoot  off  into  a  num- 
ber of  lesser  ones.  These  stores  are  intended  for 
the  Roman  populace,  but  the  locusts  have  been  be- 
forehand with  them.  The  small  patches  of  ground 
belonging  to  the  poor  peasants  up  and  down  the 
country,  for  raising  the  turnips,  garlic,  barley, 
watermelons,  on  which  they  live,  are  the  prey  of 
these  glutton  invaders  as  much  as  the  choicest  vines 
and  olives.  Nor  have  they  any  reverence  for  the 
villa  of  the  civic  decurion*  or  the  Roman  official. 
The  neatly  arranged  kitchen  garden,  with  its 
cherries,  plums,  peaches,  and  apricots,  is  a  waste; 
as  the  slaves  sit  round,  in  the  kitchen  in  the  first 
court,  at  their  coarse  evening  meal,  the  room  is 
filled  with  the  invading  force,  and  news  comes  to 
them  that  the  enemy  has  fallen  upon  the  apples  and 
pears  in  the  basement,  and  is  at  the  same  time  plun- 
dering and  sacking  the  preserves  of  quince  and 
pomegranate,  and  reveling  in  the  jars  of  precious 
oil  of  Cyprus  and  Mendes*  in  the  store-rooms. 

8.  They  come  up  to  the  walls  of  Sicca,  and  are 
flung  against  them  into  the  ditch.  Not  a  moment's 
hesitation  or  delay ;  they  recover  their  footing,  they 
climb  up  the  wood  or  stucco,  they  surmount  the 
parapet,  or  they  have  entered  in  at  the  windows,  fill- 
ing the  apartments,  and  the  most  private  and  lux- 
urious chambers,  not  one  or  two,  like  stragglers  at 
forage  or  rioters  after  a  victory,  but  in  order  of 
battle,  and  with  the  array  of  an  army.  Choice  plants 
or  flowers  about  the  impluvia*  and  xysti,*  for  or- 


THE  LOCUST   PLAGUE  65 

nament  or  refreshment,  myrtles,  oranges,  pome- 
granates, the  rose  and  the  carnation,  have  disap- 
peared. They  dim  the  bright  marbles  of  the  walls 
and  the  gilding  of  the  ceilings.  They  enter  the  tri- 
clinium in  the  midst  of  the  banquet;  they  crawl 
over  the  viands  and  spoil  what  they  do  not  devour. 
Unrelaxed  by  success  and  by  enjoyment,  onward 
they  go;  a  secret  mysterious  instinct  keeps  them 
together,  as  if  they  had  a  king  over  them.  They 
move  along  the  floor  in  so  strange  an  order  that 
they  seem  to  be  a  tessellated  pavement  themselves, 
and  to  be  the  artificial  embellishment  of  the  place ; 
so  true  are  their  lines,  and  so  perfect  is  the  pattern 
they  describe.  Onward  they  go,  to  the  market,  to 
the  temple  sacrifices,  to  the  bakers'  stores,  to  the 
cookshops,  to  the  confectioners,  to  the  druggists; 
nothing  comes  amiss  to  them;  wherever  man  has 
aught  to  eat  or  drink,  there  are  they,  reckless  of 
death,  strong  of  appetite,  certain  of  conquest. 

9.  They  have  passed  on ;  the  men  of  Sicca  sadly 
congratulate  themselves,  and  begin  to  look  about 
them,  and  to  sum  up  their  losses.  Being  the  pro- 
prietors of  the  neighboring  districts,  and  the  pur- 
chasers of  its  produce,  they  lament  over  the  devasta- 
tion, not  because  the  fair  country  is  disfigured,  but 
because  income  is  becoming  scanty,  and  prices  are 
becoming  high.  How  is  a  population  of  many  thou- 
sands to  be  fed?  where  is  the  grain,  where  the 
melons,  the  figs,  the  dates,  the  gourds,  the  beans, 
the  grapes,  to  sustain  and  solace  the  multitudes  in 


66  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

their  lanes,  caverns,  and  garrets?  This  is  another 
weighty  consideration  for  the  class  well-to-do  in 
the  world.  The  taxes  too,  and  contributions,  the 
capitation  tax,  the  percentage  upon  corn,  the  vari- 
ous articles  of  revenues  due  to  Rome,  how  are  they 
to  be  paid?  How  are  cattle  to  be  provided  for  the 
sacrifices  and  the  tables  of  the  wealthy?  One-half, 
at  least,  of  the  supply  of  Sicca  is  cut  off.  No  longer 
slaves  are  seen  coming  into  the  city  from  the  country 
in  troops  with  their  baskets  on  their  shoulders,  or 
beating  forward  the  horse,  or  mule,  or  ox,  overladen 
with  its  burden,  or  driving  in  the  dangerous  cow  or 
the  unresisting  sheep.  The  animation  of  the  place 
is  gone;  a  gloom  hangs  over  the  Forum;  and  if 
its  frequenters  are  still  merry,  there  is  something  of 
sullenness  and  recklessness  in  their  mirth.  The 
gods  have  given  the  city  up;  something  or  other 
has  angered  them.  Locusts,  indeed,  are  no  uncom- 
mon visitation,  but  at  an  earlier  season.  Perhaps 
some  temple  has  been  polluted,  or  some  unholy^rite 
practiced,  or  some  secret  conspiracy  has  spread. 

10.  Another  and  a  still  worse  calamity.  The  in- 
vaders, as  we  have  already  hinted,  could  be  more 
terrible  still  in  their  overthrow  than  in  their  ravages. 
The  inhabitants  of  the  country  had  attempted,  where 
they  could,  to  destroy  them  by  fire  and  water.  It 
would  seem  as  if  the  malignant  animals  had  resolved 
that  the  sufferers  should  have  the  benefit  of  this 
policy  to  the  full ;  for  they  had  not  got  more  than 
twenty  miles  beyond  Sicca  when  they  suddenly 


THE   LOCUST   PLAGUE  67 

sickened  and  died.  When  they  thus  had  done  all 
the  mischief  they  could  by  their  living,  when  they 
thus  had  made  their  foul  maws  the  grave  of  every 
living  thing,  next  they  died  themselves,  and  made 
the  desolated  land  their  own  grave.  They  took 
from  it  its  hundred  forms  and  varieties  of  beautiful 
life,  and  left  it  their  own  fetid  and  poisonous  car- 
casses in  payment.  It  was  a  sudden  catastrophe; 
they  seemed  making  for  the  Mediterranean,  as  if, 
like  other  great  conquerors,  they  had  other  worlds 
to  subdue  beyond  it;  but,  whether  they  were  over- 
gorged  or  struck  by  some  atmospheric  change,  or 
that  their  time  was  come  and  they  paid  the  debt 
of  nature,  so  it  was  that  suddenly  they  fell,  and 
their  glory  came  to  nought,  and  all  was  vanity 
to  them  as  to  others,  and  "their*  stench  rose  up, 
and  their  corruption  rose  up,  because  they  had  done 
proudly." 

ii.  The  hideous  swarms  lay  dead  in  the  moist 
steaming  underwoods,  in  the  green  swamps,  in  the 
sheltered  valleys,  in  the  ditches  and  furrows  of  the 
fields,  amid  the  monuments  of  their  own  prowess, 
the  ruined  crops  and  the  dishonored  vineyards.  A 
poisonous  element,  issuing  from  their  remains, 
mingled  with  the  atmosphere,  and  corrupted  it.  The 
dismayed  peasant  found  that  a  plague  had  begun; 
a  new  visitation,  not  confined  to  the  territory  which 
the  enemy  had  made  its  own,  but  extending  far  and 
wide,  as  the  atmosphere  extends,  in  all  directions. 
Their  daily  toil,  no  longer  claimed  by  the  fruits  of 


68  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

the  earth,  which  have  ceased  to  exist,  is  now  devoted 
to  the  object  of  ridding  themselves  of  the  deadly 
legacy  which  they  have  received  in  their  stead.  In 
vain;  it  is  their  last  toil;  they  are  digging  pits, 
they  are  raising  piles,  for  their  own  corpses,  as  well 
as  for  the  bodies  of  their  enemies.  Invader  and  vic- 
tim lie  in  the  same  grave,  burn  in  the  same  heap; 
they  sicken  while  they  work,  and  the  pestilence 
spreads.  A  new  invasion  is  menacing  Sicca,  in  the 
shape  of  companies  of  peasants  and  slaves,  with 
their  employers  and  overseers,  nay,  the  farmers 
themselves  and  proprietors,  the  panic  having  broken 
the  bonds  of  discipline,  rushing  thither  from  fam- 
ine and  infection  as  to  a  place  of  safety.  The  in- 
habitants of  the  city  are  as  frightened  as  they,  and 
more  energetic.  They  determine  to  keep  them  at 
a  distance ;  the  gates  are  closed ;  a  strict  cordon  is 
drawn;  however,  by  the  continued  pressure,  num- 
bers contrive  to  make  an  entrance,  as  water  into  a 
vessel,  or  light  through  the  closed  shutters,  and  any- 
how the  air  cannot  be  put  in  quarantine ;  so  the  pes- 
tilence has  the  better  of  it,  and  at  last  appears  in  the 
alleys  and  in  the  cellars  of  Sicca.  (Callista,  chaps, 
xiv,  xv.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Discuss  the  description  of  the  marsh  in  §  I.  May 
we  call  it  "  description  by  suggestion  "  ?  What  kind 
of  picture,  vivid  or  otherwise,  is  left  on  the  imagi- 
nation? To  which  of  the  two  types,  description 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  69 

or  exposition,  do  you  refer  §§  3,  4,  and  5  ?  On  what 
grounds  ? 

What  is  the  viewpoint  in  §  6?  Does  the  view- 
point shift?  Note  the  topical  development  of  §  7 
(Topical  Sentence,  Repetition,  Particulars).  Note, 
too,  the  pictorial  value  of  the  successive  particulars. 
Analyze  §  8  for  topical  development.  What  gives 
unity  to  this  paragraph?  Coherence?  emphasis? 
What  is  the  particular  force  of  the  final  sentence? 
Do  we  get  a  clear  mental  picture  of  the  beginning, 
progress,  and  end  of  the  locust  plague  ?  What  sen- 
tences enable  us  to  determine  the  direction  and  ex- 
tent of  the  plague  with  reference  to  Sicca?  WThat 
impression  does  the  description,  taken  as  a  unit, 
seek  to  convey  ?  Study  the  selection  of  details  with 
reference  to  this  impression. 

The  structure  of  the  description  as  a  whole  de- 
serves careful  study.  Test  it  (§§  6-n)  for  unity, 
coherence,  emphasis. 

Are  we  right  in  calling  the  passage  description? 
Why  not  call  it  narration?  (It  is  sometimes  diffi- 
cult in  the  case  of  certain  subjects,  e.g.,  a  battle,  a 
conflagration,  a  storm,  a  sunset,  to  determine 
whether  the  account  of  them  is  to  be  called  descrip- 
tion or  narration.  In  general  such  subjects  can  be 
treated  from  either  a  descriptive  or  a  narrative 
standpoint,  according  as  stress  is  laid  either  on  the 
element  of  scene  or  on  that  of  action.)  Portrayal 
conditioned  by  an  element  of  time  is  apt  to  be  live- 
lier in  movement  than  the  portrayal  of  still  life, 


7<3  PROSE  TYPES  IN   NEWMAN 

of  mere  inert  objects.  Why  is  this  so,  and  is  the 
principle  verified  in  the  present  instance?  Note  the 
effect,  as  contributing  to  the  graphic,  picturesque 
style,  of  epithet ;  metaphor ;  simile ;  personification ; 
the  "  historical  present."  Express  what  you  con- 
ceive to  be  the  ideal  of  a  good  descriptive  style.  Is 
the  ideal  realized  in  the  present  case? 


IX.     JUCUNDUS  AT  SUPPER 

THE  house  of  Jucundus*  was  closed  for  the  night 
when  Juba  reached  it,  or  you  would  see,  were  you 
his  companion,  that  it  was  one  of  the  most  showy 
shops  in  Sicca.  It  was  the  image-store  of  the  place, 
and  set  out  for  sale,  not  articles  of  statuary  alone, 
but  of  metal,  of  mosaic  work,  and  of  jewelry,  as  far 
as  they  were  dedicated  to  the  service  of  paganism. 
It  was  bright  with  the  many  colors  adopted  in  the 
embellishment  of  images,  and  the  many  lights  which 
silver  and  gold,  brass  and  ivory,  alabaster,  gypsum, 
talc,  and  glass  reflected.  Shelves  and  cabinets  were 
laden  with  wares ;  both  the  precious  material  and 
the  elaborated  trinket.  All  tastes  were  suited,  the 
popular  and  the  refined,  the  fashion  of  the  day  and 
the  love  of  the  antique,  the  classical  and  the  barba- 
rian devotion.  There  you  might  see  the  rude  sym- 
bols of  invisible  powers,  which,  originating  in  de- 
ficiency of  art,  had  been  perpetuated  by  reverence 
for  the  past ;  the  mysterious  cube  of  marble  sacred 
among  the  Arabs,*  the  pillar  which  was  the  emblem 
of  Mercury*  or  Bacchus,*  the  broad-based  cone  of 
Heliogabalus,*  the  pyramid  of  Paphos,*  and  the 
tile  or  brick  of  Juno.*  There  too  were  the  unmean- 
ing blocks  of  stone  with  human  heads,  which  were 

71 


72  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

to  be  dressed  out  in  rich  robes,  and  to  simulate  the 
human  form.  There  were  other  articles  besides, 
as  portable  as  these  were  unmanageable;  little 
Junos,  Mercuries,  Dianas,*  and  Fortunes,*  for 
the  bosom  or  the  girdle.  Household  gods  were 
there,  and  the  objects  of  personal  devotion,  Mi- 
nerva* or  Vesta,*  with  handsome  niches  or  shrines 
in  which  they  might  reside.  There  too  were  the 
brass  crowns,  or  nimbi,*  which  were  intended  to 
protect  the  heads  of  the  gods  from  bats  and  birds. 
There  you  might  buy,  were  you  a  heathen,  rings 
with  heads  on  them  of  Jupiter,*  Mars,*  the  Sun,* 
Serapis,*  and  above  all  Astarte.  You  would  find 
there  the  rings  and  signets  of  the  Basilidians  ;*  am- 
ulets too  of  wood  or  ivory ;  figures  of  demons,  pre- 
ternaturally  ugly ;  little  skeletons,  and  other  super- 
stitious devices.  It  would  be  hard,  indeed,  if  you 
could  not  be  pleased,  whatever  your  religious  de- 
nomination, unless  indeed  you  were  determined  to 
reject  all  the  appliances  and  objects  of  idolatry  in- 
discriminately; and  in  that  case  you  would  rejoice 
that  it  was  night,  when  you  arrived  there,  and,  in 
particular,  that  darkness  swallowed  up  other  appli- 
ances and  objects  of  pagan  worship,  which  to  dark- 
ness were  due  by  a  peculiar  title,  and  by  darkness 
were  best  shrouded,  till  the  coming  of  that  day, 
when  all  things,  good  and  evil,  shall  be  made  light. 
The  shop,  as  we  have  said,  was  closed ;  concealed 
from  view  by  large  lumbering  shutters,  and  made 
secure  by  heavy  bars  of  wood.  So  we  must  enter 


JUCUNDUS   AT  SUPPER  73 

by  the  passage  or  vestibule  on  the  right  side,  and 
that  will  conduct  us  into  a  modest  atrium*  with  an 
impluvium  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  tri- 
clinium* or  supper-room,  backing  the  shop.  Jucun- 
dus  had  been  pleasantly  engaged  in  a  small  supper- 
party;  and,  mindful  that  a  symposium*  should  lie 
within  the  number  of  the  Graces  and  of  the  Muses, 
he  had  confined  his  guests  to  two,  the  young  Greek 
Aristo,  who  was  one  of  his  principal  artists,  and 
Cornelius,  the  son  of  a  freedman  of  a  Roman  of 
distinction,  who  had  lately  got  a  place  in  one  of 
the  scrinia*  of  the  proconsular  officium*  and  had 
migrated  into  the  province  from  the  imperial  city, 
where  he  had  spent  his  best  days. 

The  dinner  had  not  been  altogether  suitable  to 
modern  ideas  of  good  living.  The  grapes  from 
Tacape,*  and  the  dates  from  the  lake  Tritonis,*  the 
white  and  black  figs,  the  nectarines  and  peaches,  and 
the  watermelons,  address  themselves  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  an  Englishman,  as  well  as  of  an  African  of 
the  third  century.  So  also  might  the  liquor  derived 
from  the  sap  or  honey  of  the  Getulian  palm,  and  the 
sweet  wine,  called  melilotus*  made  from  the  poeti- 
cal fruit  found  upon  the  coasts  of  the  Syrtis.*  He 
would  have  been  struck  too  with  the  sweetness  of 
the  mutton ;  but  he  would  have  asked  what  the 
sheep's  tails  were  before  he  tasted  them,  and  found 
how  like  marrow  the  firm  substance  ate,  of  which 
they  consisted.  He  would  have  felt  he  ought  to  ad- 
mire the  roes  of  mullets,  pressed  and  dried,  from 


74  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

Mauretania ;  but  he  would  have  thought  twice  be- 
fore he  tried  the  lion  cutlets,  though  they  had  the 
flavor  of  veal,  and  the  additional  gout*  of  being  im- 
perial property,  and  poached  from  a  preserve.  But, 
when  he  saw  the  indigenous  dish,  the  very  haggis* 
and  cock-a-leekie*  of  Africa,  in  the  shape  of  — 
(alas!  alas!  it  must  be  said,  with  whatever  apology 
for  its  introduction)  — in  shape,  then,  of  a  delicate 
puppy,  served  up  with  tomatoes,  with  its  head  be- 
tween its  forepaws,  we  consider  he  would  have  risen 
from  the  unholy  table,  and  thought  he  had  fallen 
upon  the  hospitality  of  some  sorceress  of  the  neigh- 
boring forest.  However,  to  that  festive  board  our 
Briton  was  not  invited,  for  he  had  some  previous 
engagement  that  evening,  either  of  painting  himself 
with  woad,  or  of  hiding  himself  to  the  chin  in  the 
fens ;  so  that  nothing  occurred  to  disturb  the  har- 
mony of  the  party,  and  the  good  humor  and  easy 
conversation  which  was  the  effect  of  such  excellent 
cheer. 

Cornelius  had  been  present  at  the  Secular*  Games 
in  the  foregoing  year,  and  was  full  of  them,  of 
Rome,  and  of  himself  in  connection  with  it,  as  be- 
came so  genuine  a  cockney  of  the  imperial  period. 
He  was  full  of  the  high  patriotic  thoughts  which 
so  solemn  a  celebration  had  kindled  within  him.  "  O 
great  Rome !  "  he  said,  "  thou  art  first,  and  there  is 
no  second.  In  that  wonderful  pageant  which  these 
eyes  saw  last  year  was  embodied  her  majesty,  was 
promised  her  eternity.  We  die,  she  lives.  I  say, 


JUCUNDUS   AT   SUPPER  75 

let  a  man  die.  It 's  well  for  him  to  take  hemlock, 
or  open  a  vein,  after  having  seen  the  Secular  Games. 
What  was  there  to  live  for?  I  felt  it;  life  was 
gone;  its  best  gifts  flat  and  insipid  after  that  great 
day.  Excellent  —  Tauromenian,*  I  suppose?  We 
know  it  in  Rome.  Fill  up  my  cup.  I  drink  to  the 
genius*  of  the  emperor." 

He  was  full  of  his  subject,  and  soon  resumed  it. 
"  Fancy  the  Campus  Martius  lighted  up  from  one 
end  to  the  other.  It  was  the  finest  thing  in  the 
world.  A  large  plain,  covered,  not  with  streets,  not 
with  woods,  but  broken  and  crossed  with  superb 
buildings  in  the  midst  of  groves,  avenues  of  trees, 
and  green  grass  down  to  the  water's  edge.  There  's 
nothing  that  isn't  there.  Do  you  want  the  grandest 
temples  in  the  world,  the  most  spacious  porticoes, 
the  longest  race-courses?  there  they  are.  Do  you 
want  gymnasia?  there  they  are.  Do  you  want 
arches,  statues,  obelisks?  you  find  them  there. 
There  you  have  at  one  end  the  stupendous  mauso- 
leum* of  Augustus,  cased  with  white  marble,  and 
just  across  the  river  the  huge  towering  mound*  of 
Hadrian.  At  the  other  end  you  have  the  noble  Pan- 
theon* of  Agrippa,  with  its  splendid  Syracusan  col- 
umns, and  its  dome  glittering  with  silver  tiles.  Hard 
by  are  the  baths*  of  Alexander,  with  their  beauti- 
ful groves.  Ah,  my  good  friend !  I  shall  have  no 
time  to  drink,  if  I  go  on.  Beyond  are  the  numerous 
chapels  and  fanes  which  fringe  the  base  of  the  Capi- 
toline*  hill;  the  tall  column*  of  Antoninus  comes 


76  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

next,  with  its  adjacent  basilica,  where  is  kept  the 
authentic  list  of  the  provinces  of  the  empire,  and  of 
the  governors,  each  a  king  in  power  and  dominion, 
who  are  sent  out  to  them.  Well,  I  am  now  only 
beginning.  Fancy,  I  say,  this  magnificent  region 
all  lighted  up ;  every  temple  to  and  fro,  every  bath, 
every  grove,  gleaming  with  innumerable  lamps  and 
torches.  No,  not  even  the  gods  of  Olympus*  have 
any  thing  that  comes  near  it.  Rome  is  the  greatest 
of  all  divinities.  In  the  dead  of  night  all  was  alive ; 
then  it  was,  when  nature  sleeps  exhausted,  Rome 
began  the  solemn  sacrifices  to  commemorate  her 
thousand  years.  On  the  banks  of  the  Tiber,  which 
had  seen  ^Eneas*  land,  and  Romulus  ascend  to  the 
gods,  the  clear  red  flame  shot  up  as  the  victims 
burned.  The  music  of  ten  thousand  horns  and  flutes 
burst  forth,  and  the  sacred  dances  began  upon  the 
greensward.  I  am  too  old  to  dance ;  but,  I  protest, 
even  I  stood  up  and  threw  off.  We  danced  through 
three  nights,  dancing  the  old  millenary*  out,  danc- 
ing the  new  millenary  in.  We  were  all  Romans,  no 
strangers,  no  slaves.  It  was  a  solemn  family  feast, 
the  feast  of  all  the  Romans." 

"  Then  we  came  in  for  the  feast,"  said  Aristo ; 
"  for  Caracalla*  gave  Roman  citizenship  to  all  free- 
men all  over  the  world.  We  are  all  of  us  Romans, 
recollect,  Cornelius." 

"  Ah !  that  was  another  matter,  a  condescension," 
answered  Cornelius.  "  Yes,  in  a  certain  sense,  I 
grant  it ;  but  it  was  a  political  act." 


JUCUNDUS  AT  SUPPER  77 

"  I  warrant  you,"  retorted  Aristo,  "  most  politi- 
cal. We  were  to  be  fleeced,  do  you  see?  so  your 
imperial  government  made  us  Romans,  that  we 
might  have  the  taxes  of  Romans,  and  that  in  addi- 
tion to  our  own.  You  've  taxed  us  double ;  and  as 
for  the  privilege  of  citizenship,  much  it  is,  by  Her- 
cules, when  every  snob  has  it  who  can  wear  a 
pileus*  or  cherish  his  hair." 

"  Ah !  but  you  should  have  seen  the  procession 
from  the  Capitol,"  continued  Cornelius,  "on,  I 
think,  the  second  day;  from  the  Capitol*  to  the 
Circus,*  all  down  the  Via*  Sacra.  Hosts  of 
strangers  there,  and  provincials  from  the  four 
corners  of  the  earth,  but  not  in  the  procession. 
There  you  saw  all  in  one  coup-d'ceil*  the  real  good 
blood  of  Rome,  the  young  blood  of  the  new  gener- 
ation, and  promise  of  the  future;  the  sons  of  pa- 
trician and  consular  families,  of  imperators,*  ora- 
tors, conquerors,  statesmen.  They  rode  at  the  head 
of  the  procession,  fine  young  fellows,  six  abreast; 
and  still  more  of  them  on  foot.  Then  came  the 
running  horses  and  the  chariots,  the  boxers,  wrest- 
lers, and  other  combatants,  all  ready  for  the  compe- 
tition. The  whole  school  of  gladiators  then  turned 
out,  boys  and  all,  with  their  masters,  dressed  in  red 
tunics,  and  splendidly  armed.  They  formed  three 
bands,  and  they  went  forward  gayly,  dancing  and 
singing  the  Pyrrhic.*  By-the-bye,  a  thousand  pair 
of  gladiators  fought  during  the  games,  a  round 
thousand,  and  such  clean-made,  well-built  fellows, 


78  PROSE  TYPES  IN   NEWMAN 

and  they  came,  against  each  other  so  gallantly !  You 
should  have  seen  it ;  /  can't  go  through  it.  There 
was  a  lot  of  satyrs,*  jumping  and  frisking,  in  bur- 
lesque of  the  martial  dances  which  preceded  them. 
There  was  a  crowd  of  trumpeters  and  horn-blowers ; 
ministers  of  the  sacrifices  with  their  victims,  bulls 
and  rams,  dressed  up  with  gay  wreaths ;  drivers, 
butchers,  haruspices,*  heralds;  images  of  gods 
with  their  cars  of  ivory  or  of  silver,  drawn  by  tame 
lions  and  elephants.  I  can't  recollect  the  order.  O ! 
but  the  grandest  thing  of  all  was  the  Carmen,*  sung 
by  twenty-seven  noble  youths,  and  as  many  noble 
maidens,  taken  for  the  purpose  from  the  bosoms  of 
their  families  to  propitiate  the  gods  of  Rome.  The 
flamens,*  augurs,*  colleges  of  priests,  it  was  end- 
less. Last  of  all  came  the  emperor  himself." 

"  But  I  tell  you,  man,"  rejoined  Cornelius,  "  Rome 
is  a  city  of  kings.  That  one  city,  in  this  one  year, 
has  as  many  kings  at  once  as  those  of  all  the  kings 
of  all  the  dynasties  of  Egypt  put  together.  Sesos- 
tris,*  and  the  rest  of  them,  what  are  they  to  im- 
perators,  prefects,*  proconsuls,*  vicarii*  and  ra- 
tionales?* Look  back  at  Lucullus,*  Caesar,*  Pom- 
pey,*  Sylla,*  Titus,*  Trajan.*  What 's  old  Cheops's* 
pyramid  to  the  Flavian*  amphitheatre?  What  is 
the  many-gated  Thebes*  to  Nero's*  golden  house, 
while  it  was?  What  the  grandest  palace  of  Sesos- 
tris  or  Ptolemy*  but  a  second-rate  villa  of  one  of  ten 
thousand  Roman  citizens?  Our  houses  stand  on 


JUCUNDUS  AT  SUPPER  79 

acres  of  ground;  they  ascend  as  high  as  the  tower 
of  Babylon* ;  they  swarm  with  columns  like  a  forest ; 
they  pullulate  into  statues  and  pictures.  The  walls, 
pavements,  and  ceilings  are  dazzling  from  the  luster 
of  the  rarest  marble,  red  and  yellow,  green  and 
mottled.  Fountains  of  perfumed  water  shoot  aloft 
from  the  floor,  and  fish  swim  in  rocky  channels 
round  about  the  room,  waiting  to  be  caught  and 
killed  for  the  banquet.  We  dine;  and  we  feast  on 
the  head  of  the  ostrich,  the  brains  of  the  peacock, 
the  liver  of  the  bream,  the  milk  of  the  murena,*  and 
the  tongue  of  the  flamingo.  A  swarm  of  doves, 
nightingales,  beccaficos*  are  concentrated  into  one 
dish.  On  great  occasions  we  eat  a  phoenix.*  Our 
saucepans  are  of  silver,  our  dishes  of  gold,  our 
vases  of  onyx,  and  our  cups  of  precious  stones. 
Hangings  and  carpets  of  Tyrian*  purple  are  around 
us  and  beneath  us,  and  we  lie  on  ivory  couches.  The 
choicest  wines  of  Greece  and  Italy  crown  our  gob- 
lets, and  exotic  flowers  crown  our  heads.  In  come 
troops  of  dancers  from  Lydia,*  or  pantomimes  from 
Alexandria,*  to  entertain  both  eye  and  mind;  or 
our  noble  dames  and  maidens  take  a  place  at  our 
tables;  they  wash  in  asses'  milk,  they  dress  by 
mirrors  as  large  as  fish-ponds,  and  they  glitter  from 
head  to  foot  with  combs,  brooches,  necklaces,  col- 
lars, ear-rings,  armlets,  bracelets,  finger-rings, 
girdles,  stomachers,  and  anklets,  all  of  diamond  and 
emerald.  Our  slaves  may  be  counted  by  thousands, 
and  they  come  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  Every- 


8O  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

thing  rare  and  precious  is  brought  to  Rome;  the 
gum*  of  Arabia,  the  nard*  of  Assyria,  the  papyrus* 
of  Egypt,  the  citron-wood*  of  Mauretania,  the 
bronze*  of  ^gina,  the  pearls*  of  Britain,  the  cloth* 
of  gold  of  Phrygia,  the  fine  webs*  of  Cos,  the  em- 
broidery* of  Babylon,  the  silks*  of  Persia,  the  lion- 
skins*  of  Getulia,  the  wool*  of  Miletus,  the  plaids* 
of  Gaul.  Thus  we  live,  an  imperial  people,  who  do 
nothing  but  enjoy  themselves,  and  keep  festival  the 
whole  year;  and  at  length  we  die,  —  and  then  we 
burn ;  we  burn,  —  in  stacks  of  cinnamon  and 
cassia,*  and  in  shrouds  of  asbestos*  making  em- 
phatically a  good  end  of  it.  Such  are  we  Romans, 
a  great  people.  Why,  we  are  honored  wherever  we 
go.  There  's  my  master,  there  's  myself ;  as  we 
came  here  from  Italy,  I  protest  we  were  nearly 
worshiped  as  demigods." 

"  And  perhaps  some  fine  morning,"  said  Aristo, 
"  Rome  herself  will  burn  in  cinnamon  and  cassia, 
and  in  all  her  burnished  Corinthian*  brass  and  scar- 
let bravery,  the  old  mother  following  her  children 
to  the  funeral  pyre.  One  has  heard  something  of 
Babylon,  and  its  drained  moat,  and  the  soldiers  of 
the  Persian." 

A  pause  occurred  in  the  conversation,  as  one  of 
Jucundus's  slaves  entered  with  fresh  wine,  larger 
goblets,  and  a  vase  of  snow  from  the  Atlas.  (Cal- 
lista,  chap,  v.) 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  8l 


Questions  and  Studies 

Chapter  v  of  Callista  is  a  succession  of  descrip- 
tive passages  in  Newman's  best  manner.  The  pen- 
pictures  of  the  image  shop,  the  Africo-Roman 
supper,  the  Campus  Martius,  the  procession  from 
the  Capitol  during  the  Secular  Games  at  Rome, 
and,  finally,  of  Rome  itself,  with  its  wealth  of 
luxuries  of  every  kind,  are  all  splendid  examples 
of  the  use  of  the  concrete  in  description.  In  each 
instance  the  description  owes  its  power  to  a  series 
of  definite,  specific  details,  each  supplying  its 
distinct  image  and  all  conspiring  i  with  cumula- 
tive effect  to  leave  a  vivid  impression  on  the 
imagination. 

What  sentence  in  §  I  characterizes  the  image  shop 
as  a  whole?  Discuss  the  general  impression  aimed 
at  and  the  choice  of  details.  What  is  the  relation 
of  the  sentence,  "  All  tastes  were  suited,  etc.,"  to 
the  succeeding  sentences?  Note  the  repetition  of 
the  word  "  there."  What  effect  has  this  repetition 
on  the  coherence  of  the  passage?  Explain. 

Mark  the  initial  sentence  of  §  3  and  the  depend- 
ence on  it  of  the  rest  of  the  paragraph.  What  is 
the  first  suggested  point  of  view  ?  Is  it  further  par- 
ticularized and  how?  What  value  do  you  see  in 
the  author's  device  of  an  imaginary  Englishman? 
What  does  the  passage  gain  by  the  introduction  in 
the  last  sentence  of  "  our  Briton  "  ?  Does  any  con- 


82  PROSE  TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

fusion  of  viewpoint  result?  Discuss  the  value  of 
the  details  for  the  author's  purpose. 

What  sentence  embodies  the  theme  of  the  descrip- 
tion in  §  5  ?  Point  out  a  fundamental  image.  Ob- 
serve the  grouping  of  details  with  reference  to  this 
image,  viz.,  first  generalised,  then  particularised 
details.  Is  there  a  plan  in  the  particularised  details  ? 
Is  the  latter  part  of  the  paragraph  description  or 
narration  ? 

Why  is  §  6  to  be  considered  descriptive  in  type? 
Is  a  point  of  view  suggested  ?  Do  the  details  follow 
any  principle  of  order?  What  dominant  impres- 
sion does  the  writer  aim  at  making?  With  what 
success?  The  use  of  concrete  detail,  characteristic 
of  the  passages  now  under  study,  calls  for  attention. 

Again  (§  9)  a  general  impression  is  aimed  at. 
What  is  it?  The  rich  profusion  of  concrete  detail 
has  its  purpose.  What  is  it?  What  suggestiveness 
or  connotative  force  belongs  to  the  numerous  proper 
names?  Have  the  names,  e.g.,  Lucullus,  Caesar, 
Pompey,  etc.,  any  suggestive  force  for  those  who 
have  never  read  of  these  celebrities?  What,  then, 
do  you  understand  by  suggestiveness  as  an  attribute 
of  words  ?  Group  the  details  under  heads,  showing 
a  plan  in  the  description.  Characterize  the  style  of 
the  passage.  Is  it  a  typical  style  for  effective  de- 
scription? If  so,  why?  Note  the  little  concrete 
touch  in  §  ii.  What  significance  do  you  see  in  it? 


X.    THE  CONVERSION  OF  ENGLAND 

IT  is  an  old  story  and  a  familiar,  and  I  need  not 
go  through  it.  I  need  not  tell  you  how  suddenly 
the  word  of  truth  came  to  our  ancestors  in  this 
island  and  subdued  them  to  its  gentle  rule ;  how  the 
grace  of  God  fell  on  them,  and,  without  compulsion, 
as  the  historian  tells  us,  the  multitude  became  Chris- 
tian ;  how,  when  all  was  tempestuous,  and  hopeless, 
and  dark,  Christ  like  a  vision  of  glory  came  walking 
to  them  on  the  waves  of  the  sea.  Then  suddenly 
there  was  a  great  calm;  a  change  came  over  the 
pagan  people  in  that  quarter  of  the  country  where 
the  gospel  was  first  preached  to  them;  and  from 
thence  the  blessed  influence  went  forth;  it  was 
poured  out  over  the  whole  land,  till,  one  and  all, 
the  Anglo-Saxon  people  were  converted  by  it.  In 
a  hundred  years  the  work  was  done;  the  idols,  the 
sacrifices,  the  mummeries  of  paganism  flitted  away 
and  were  not,  and  the  pure  doctrine  and  heavenly 
worship  of  the  Cross  were  found  in  their  stead.  The 
fair  form  of  Christianity  rose  up  and  grew  and  ex- 
panded like  a  beautiful  pageant  from  north  to  south ; 
it  was  majestic,  it  was  solemn,  it  was  bright,  it  was 
beautiful  and  pleasant,  it  was  soothing  to  the  griefs, 
it  was  indulgent  to  the  hopes  of  man;  it  was  at 

83 


84  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

once  a  teaching  and  a  worship ;  it  had  a  dogma,  a 
mystery,  a  ritual  of  its  own;  it  had  an  hierarchical 
form.  A  brotherhood  of  holy  pastors,  with  miter 
and  crosier  and  uplifted  hand,  walked  forth  and 
blessed  and  ruled  a  joyful  people.  The  crucifix 
headed  the  procession,  and  simple  monks  were  there 
with  hearts  in  prayer,  and  sweet  chants  resounded, 
and  the  holy  Latin  tongue  was  heard,  and  boys  came 
forth  in  white,  swinging  censers,  and  the  fragrant 
cloud  arose,  and  mass  was  sung,  and  the  saints  were 
invoked;  and  day  after  day,  and  in  the  still  night, 
and  over  the  woody  hills  and  in  the  quiet  plains,  as 
constantly  as  sun  and  moon  and  stars  go  forth  in 
heaven,  so  regular  and  solemn  was  the  stately  march 
or  blessed  services  on  earth,  high  festival  and  gor- 
geous procession,  and  soothing  dirge,  and  passing 
bell,  and  the  familiar  evening  call  to  prayer :  till  he 
who  recollected  the  old  pagan  time  would  think  it 
all  unreal  that  he  beheld  and  heard,  and  would  con- 
clude he  did  but  see  a  vision,  so  marvelously  was 
heaven  let  down  upon  earth,  so  triumphantly  were 
chased  away  the  fiends  of  darkness  to  their  prison 
below.  (Christ  upon  the  Waters  in  Sermons 
Preached  on  Various  Occasions,  p.  120.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Selections  X,  XI,  and  XII  are  examples  of  a 
type  of  description  in  which  Newman  was  an  adept, 
viz.,  the  portrayal,  in  an  intense  emotional  and  im- 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  85 

aginative  glow,  of  some  inspiring  scene  or  incident. 
(See  in  Selections  VIII  and  IX  illustrations  of  the 
same  type.  Word-painting  is  the  name  it  com- 
monly goes  by.  The  Latin  rhetorical  term  for  it  is 
visio,  the  French,  tableau.  Oratory  at  its  higher 
levels  uses  the  device  to  impress  and  thrill  the 
hearer. ) 

The  passage  tells  something  that  happened,  viz., 
the  conversion  of  the  Anglo-Saxons.  Why  not, 
then,  call  it  narration?  Does  the  passage  aim  at 
some  definite,  clear-cut  impression?  If  so,  what  is 
it?  Do  the  details  really  contribute  to  heighten 
this  impression?  Do  they  possess  any  particular 
suggestive  value?  Specify.  Do  you  catch  any 
beat  or  cadence  in  the  sentences?  What  does  the 
prose-rhythm  add  to  the  suggestive  elements  of 
the  description?  Explain.  Note  the  frequent 
"  ands  "  in  the  sentence,  "  The  crucifix  headed  the 
procession,  etc."  What  is  their,  rhetorical  effect? 
What  elements  in  the  diction  make  for  the  vivid 
style  ? 


XI.     THE  FIRST  SYNOD  OF  WEST- 
MINSTER 

MY  Fathers,  there  was  one*  of  your  own  order 
then  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers  and  his  reputa- 
tion. His  name  is  the  property  of  this  diocese ;  yet 
is  too  great,  too  venerable,  too  dear  to  all  Catholics, 
to  be  confined  to  any  part  of  England,  when  it  is 
rather  a  household  word  in  the  mouths  of  all  of 
us.  What  would  have  been  the  feelings  of  that 
venerable  man,  the  champion  of  God's  ark  in  an 
evil  time,  could  he  have  lived  to  see  this  day?  It 
is  almost  presumptuous,  for  one  who  knew  him  not, 
to  draw  pictures  about  him,  and  his  thoughts,  and 
his  friends,  some  of  whom  are  even  here  present; 
yet  am  I  wrong  in  fancying  that  a  day  such  as  this 
in  which  we  stand  would  have  seemed  to  him  a 
dream,  or,  if  he  prophesied  of  it,  to  his  hearers 
nothing  but  a  mockery?  Say  that  one  time,  rapt 
in  spirit,  he  had  reached  forward  to  the  future,  and 
that  his  mortal  eye  had  wandered  from  that  lowly* 
chapel  in  the  valley,  which  had  been  for  centuries 
in  the  possession  of  Catholics,  to  the  neighboring 
height,  then  waste  and  solitary.  And  let  him  say 
to  those  about  him :  "  I  see  a  bleak  mount,  looking 
upon  an  open  country,  over  against  that*  huge 

86 


THE  FIRST  SYNOD  OF   WESTMINSTER  87 

town,  to  whose  inhabitants  Catholicism  is  of  so  little 
account.  I  see  the  ground  marked  out,  and  an 
ample  inclosure  made;  and  plantations  are  rising 
there,  clothing  and  circling  in  the  space.  And  there 
on  that  high  spot,  far  from  the  haunts  of  men,  yet 
in  the  very  center  of  the  island,  a  large*  edifice,  or 
rather  pile  of  edifices,  appears,  with  many  fronts, 
and  courts,  and  long  cloisters  and  corridors,  and 
story  upon  story.  And  there  it  rises,  under  the  in- 
vocation of  the  same  sweet  and  powerful  name 
which  has  been  our  strength  and  consolation  in  the 
Valley.  I  look  more  attentively  at  that  building, 
and  I  see  it  is  fashioned  upon  that  ancient*  style 
of  art  which  brings  back  the  past,  which  had  seemed 
to  be  perishing  from  off  the  face  of  the  earth,  or 
to  be  preserved  only  as  a  curiosity,  or  to  be  imitated 
only  as  a  fancy.  I  listen,  and  I  hear  the  sound  of 
voices,  grave  and  musical,  renewing  the  old  chant, 
with  which  Augustine*  greeted  Ethelbert*  in  the 
free  air  upon  the  Kentish  strand.  It  comes  from  a 
long  procession,  and  it  winds  along  the  cloisters. 
Priests  and  religious,  theologians  from  the  schools, 
and  canons  from  the  Cathedral,  walk  in  due  prece- 
dence. And  then  there  comes  a  vision  of  well-nigh 
twelve  mitered  heads;  and  last  I  see  a  Prince*  of 
the  Church,  in  the  royal  dye  of  empire  and  of  mar- 
tyrdom, a  pledge  to  us  from  Rome  of  Rome's  un- 
wearied love,  a  token  that  that  goodly  company  is 
firm  in  Apostolic  faith  and  hope.  And  the  shadow 
of  the  Saints  is  there ;  —  St.  Benedict*  is  there, 


88  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

speaking  to  us  by  the  voice  of  bishop  and  of  priest, 
and  counting  over  the  long  ages  through  which  he 
has  prayed,  and  studied,  and  labored;  there,  too, 
is  St.  Dominic's*  white  wool,  which  no  blemish  can 
impair,  no  stain  can  dim ;  —  and  if  St.  Bernard*  be 
not  there,  it  is  only  that  his  absence  may  make 
.him  be  remembered  more.  And  the  princely  pa- 
triarch, St.  Ignatius,*  too,  the  St.  George*  of  the 
modern  world,  with  his  chivalrous  lance  run  through 
his  writhing  foe,  he,  too,  sheds  his  blessing  upon 
that  train.  And  others,  also,  his  equals  or  his  jun- 
iors in  history,  whose  pictures  are  above  our  altars, 
or  soon  shall  be,  the  surest  proof  that  the  Lord's 
arm  has  not  waxen  short,  nor  his  mercy  failed, — 
they,  too,  are  looking  down  from  their  thrones  on 
high  upon  the  throng.  And  so  that  high  company 
moves  on  into  the  holy  place;  and  there,  with 
august  rite  and  awful  sacrifice,  inaugurates  the 
great  act  which  brings  it  thither."  What  is  that 
act?  It  is  the  first  Synod  of  a  new  Hierarchy;  it 
is  the  resurrection  of  the  Church.  (The  Second 
Spring  in  Sermons  Preached  on  Various  Occasions, 
p.  163.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Newman's  sermon,  The  Second  Spring,  was 
preached  on  the  occasion  of  the  First  Provincial 
Synod  of  Westminster  at  St.  Mary's  College,  Os- 
cott,  1851.  The  Synod  marked  the  first  assembling 
of  the  Catholic  Hierarchy  of  England  after  its  res- 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  89 

toration  by  Pius  IX.  Bishop  Milner,  to  whom  is 
attributed  the  prophetic  dream,  was  Vicar-Apostolic 
of  the  London  District  in  the  first  quarter  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

Discuss  the  viewpoint;  its  bearings  on  the  unity 
and  graphic  vigor  of  the  description.  Note  all  the 
elements  that  make  for  dramatic  vividness,  e.g., 
use  of  first  person,  historical  present,  parallel  struc- 
ture, etc.  "  Newman  understood  perfectly  the  sym- 
bolic value  of  rhythm  and  the  possibility  of  impos- 
ing upon  a  series  of  simple  words,  by  delicately  sen- 
sitive adjustment,  a  power  over  the  feelings  and 
the  imagination  like  that  of  an  incantation."  (Gates : 
Selections  from  Newman,  p.  xxxv.)  Apply  this 
criticism  to  the  passage  under  study.  What  "  sym- 
bolic value  "  do  you  see  in  the  rhythm  ?  To  realize 
the  "  delicately  sensitive  adjustment "  of  the  words, 
rearrange  them  here  and  there  and  note  the  effect 
upon  the  rhythm.  . 

Compare  this  passage  with  a  similar  one  in 
Burke's  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  the  Colonies, 
§  23 :  "  Mr.  Speaker,  I  cannot  prevail  on  myself, 
etc."  Which  passage  is  better  adapted  to  attain  its 
purpose  ? 


XII.     CALLISTA'S  DREAM 

i.  SHE  slept  sound ;  she  dreamed.  She  thought 
she  was  no  longer  in  Africa,  but  in  her  own  Greece, 
more  sunny  and  bright  than  before ;  but  the  inhab- 
itants were  gone.  Its  majestic  mountains,  its  rich 
plains,  its  expanse  of  waters,  all  silent:  no  one  to 
converse  with,  no  one  to  sympathize  with.  And, 
as  she  wandered  on  and  wondered,  suddenly  its  face 
changed,  and  its  colors  were  illuminated  tenfold  by 
a  heavenly  glory,  and  each  hue  upon  the  scene  was 
of  a  beauty  she  had  never  known,  and  seemed 
strangely  to  affect  all  her  senses  at  once,  being  fra- 
grance and  music,  as  well  as  light.  And  there  came 
out  of  the  grottoes,  and  glens,  and  woods,  and  out 
of  the  seas,  myriads  of  bright  images,  whose  forms 
she  could  not  discern;  and  these  came  all  around 
her,  and  became  a  sort  of  scene  or  landscape,  which 
she  could  not  have  described  in  words,  as  if  it  were 
a  world  of  spirits,  not  of  matter.  And  as  she  gazed, 
she  thought  she  saw  before  her  a  well-known  face, 
only  glorified.  She,  who  had  been  a  slave,  now  was 
arrayed  more  brilliantly  than  an  oriental  queen; 
and  she  looked  at  Callista  with  a  smile  so  sweet,  that 
Callista  felt  she  could  but  dance  to  it. 

2.  And  as  she  looked  more  earnestly,  doubting 
whether  she  should  begin  or  not,  the  face  changed, 

90 


CALLISTA'S  DREAM  91 

and  now  was  more  marvelous  still.  It  had  an  inno- 
cence in  its  look,  and  also  a  tenderness,  which  be- 
spoke both  Maid  and  Mother,  and  so  transported 
Callista  that  she  must  needs  advance  towards  her, 
out  of  love  and  reverence.  And  the  Lady  seemed 
to  make  signs  of  encouragement:  so  she  began  a 
solemn  measure,  unlike  all  dances  of  earth,  with 
hands  and  feet,  serenely  moving  on  towards  what 
she  heard  some  of  them  call  a  great  action  and  a 
glorious  consummation,  though  she  did  not  know 
what  they  meant.  At  length  she  was  fain  to  sing  as 
well  as  dance ;  and  her  words  were,  "  In  the  Name 
of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost " ;  on  which  another  said,  "  A  good  begin- 
ning of  the  sacrifice."  And  when  she  had  come 
close  to  this  gracious  figure,  there  was  a  fresh 
change.  The  face,  the  features  were  the  same; 
but  the  light  of  Divinity  now  seemed  to  beam 
through  them,  and  the  hair  parted,  and  hung  down 
on  each  side  of  the  forehead;  and  there  was  a 
crown  of  another  fashion  from  the  Lady's  round 
about  it,  made  of  what  looked  like  thorns.  And  the 
palms  of  the  hands  were  spread  out  as  if  towards 
her,  and  there  were  marks  or  wounds  in  them.  And 
the  vestment  had  fallen,  and  there  was  a  deep  open- 
ing in  the  side.  And  as  she  stood  entranced  before 
Him,  and  motionless,  she  felt  a  consciousness  that 
her  own  palms  were  pierced  like  His,  and  her  feet 
also.  And  she  looked  round,  and  saw  the  likeness 
of  His  face  and  of  His  wounds  upon  all  that  com- 


92  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

pany.  And  now  they  were  suddenly  moving  on, 
and  bearing  something,  or  some  one,  heavenwards ; 
and  they  too  began  to  sing,  and  their  words  seemed 
to  be,  "  Rejoice*  with  Me,  for  I  have  found  My 
sheep,"  ever  repeated.  They  went  up  through  an 
avenue  or  long  grotto,  with  torches  of  diamonds, 
and  amethysts,  and  sapphires,  which  lit  up  its  spars 
and  made  them  sparkle.  And  she  tried  to  look,  but 
could  not  discover  what  they  were  carrying,  till  she 
heard  a  very  piercing  cry,  which  awoke  her.  ( Cal- 
lista,  chap,  xxxii.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  element  of  time  enters  into  the  description, 
but  not  in  a  manner  to  destroy  the  descriptive  type. 

Topics  for  study  may  be:  (a)  The  calm  beauty 
and  vividness  of  the  style.  How  are  these  secured  ? 
(b)  The  simple  diction,  (c)  The  melody  of  the 
single  words  and  rhythm  of  the  sentences,  (d) 
The  use  of  "  and  "  to  begin  the  sentences.  Cf .  a 
similar  usage  in  the  Bible,  especially  in  narrative 
passages.  Coleridge  observes  that  simple,  unedu- 
cated persons  express  themselves  in  a  series  of 
simple  sentences  without  any  attempt  at  grammati- 
cal subordination  of  unimportant  ideas.  What  do 
you  feel  to  be  the  precise  effect  of  the  "  ands,"  as 
used  in  the  present  passage? 

Discuss  the  whole  topic  of  "  symbolic  suggestive- 
ness  "  in  words  and  sentences  as  here  illustrated. 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  93 

The  chief  elements  of  technique  and  style  in  description 
are  illustrated  in  selections  vi-xii.  Thus,  point  of  view 
(vi,  vii),  fundamental  image  (vi),  effective  choice  of  de- 
tails (vm,  ix),  unity  of  impression  (vi,  vm,  ix),  abundant 
use  of  concrete  details  (vm,  ix),  tone-color,  including 
rhythm  and  melody  (x,  xi,  xn),  picturesqueness  (vm,  ix). 

What  ought  to  impress  the  student  foi  Newman's  de- 
scriptive passages  is  his  persistent  use  of  the  concrete.  The 
lesson  therefore  is  a  golden  one :  in  descriptive  or  narra- 
tive writing,  in  all  writing  that  aims  at  vividness  of  por- 
trayal, be  concrete,  be  definite.  Don't  stop  at  generalities. 
A  series  of  specific,  concrete  details  will  palpitate  with 
life  and  suggestiveness,  where  merely  general  statements 
would  leave  the  reader's  imagination  and  emotions  alike 
untouched. 


C.   EXPOSITION 

i.  Definition.  The  essential  idea  of  exposition, 
no  matter  what  form  the  exposition  takes,  is  that 
of  explanation,  interpretation.  As  often  as  we  ex- 
plain, interpret,  expound,  we  use  exposition.  Con- 
sequently exposition  is  a  form  of  discourse  which 
sets  forth  the  meaning  of  general  ideas  or  terms, 
of  propositions  and  of  concrete  objects  treated 
inter pretatively. 

,(a)  Meaning.  The  answer  to  the  question 
"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  will  always  be  exposition. 
The  question  may  regard  a  term,  a  general  idea,  a 
proposition,  or  some  definite  and  concrete  object, 
as  a  statue,  a  painting,  a  poem,  a  piece  of  music. 

(b)  General  Ideas  are  ideas  representative  of  gen- 
eral or  class-objects,  as  man,  tree,  poetry.    Descrip- 
tion, unlike  exposition,  deals  only  with  single,  con- 
crete objects,  as  Napoleon,  Charter  Oak,  Paradise 
Lost. 

(c)  Terms  (general)  are  the  verbal  signs  or  sym- 
bols of  general  ideas. 

(d)  Propositions.     A  proposition  is  the  verbal 
sign  or  symbol  of  a  judgment,  or  it  is  a  statement 

95 


96  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

affirming  or  denying  something  of  a  given  subject. 
A  proposition  may  be  explained  either  (a)  by  ex- 
plaining the  meaning  of  its  separate  terms  or  (&) 
by  expounding  the  proposition  as  such,  i.e.,  by 
showing  precisely  in  what  sense  the  predicate  of 
the  proposition  is  affirmed  or  denied  of  the  subject. 

We  explain  or  expound  a  proposition;  we  ex- 
plain, expound,  or  define  a  term.  Exposition  under- 
takes only  to  explain  propositions ;  it  belongs  to 
argumentation  to  prove  them. 

(e)  Concrete  Objects  Treated  Interpretatively. 
Description  is  a  picturing  in  words  of  such  details 
or  aspects  of  a  concrete  object  as  strike  the  senses. 
Thus,  to  describe  a  painting  is  to  enumerate  such 
details  as  its  size,  shape,  colors,  figures,  background, 
etc.  But  the  questions  may  be  asked,  "  What  idea 
did  the  artist  wish  to  convey  by  the  painting  ?  What 
meaning  or  significance,  if  any,  are  we  to  attach  to 
this  color,  to  that  figure,  to  this  particular  detail  ?  " 
The  answer  to  such  questions  will  be  exposition. 
As  a  consequence,  whenever  we  express  a  meaning 
or  interpretation  we  have  found  for  a  concrete  ob- 
ject, the  result  is  exposition  and  not  description. 
We  say,  accordingly,  "  Explain  this  detail,"  i.e.,  in- 
terpret, make  clear  its  significance,  its  hidden  mean- 
ing. Sometimes  the  interpretation  is  conveyed  im- 
plicitly, i.e.,  the  particulars  (e.g.,  in  a  narration) 
are  so  selected  and  arranged  that  the  author's  view 
or  opinion  regarding  them  is  brought  home  to  the 
reader  without  need  of  formal  statement.  This 


EXPOSITION  97 

method  has  been  called  concrete  criticisM,  also  in- 
terpretative presentation,  also  expository  narration 
or  expository  description,  according  as  exposition 
uses  one  or  the  other  medium. 

2.  Types.  A  composition  may  be  expository  in 
method  (form)  or  in  purpose  only.  If  in  method, 
then  it  employs  the  usual  processes  of  exposition 
(definition  and  division)  and  such  amplifying  de- 
vices as  illustration,  antithesis  or  contrast,  obverse 
statement  (telling  what  a  thing  is  not),  comparison, 
repetition,  etc.  If  in  purpose  only,  then  the  form 
may  be  narration,  description,  or  argumentation. 

While  aiming  at  exposition  or  explanation  as  the 
end  in  view,  we  may  resort  to  narration,  description, 
or  argumentation  to  accomplish  our  purpose.  Hence 
arise  the  types  known  as  Expository  (Interpreta- 
tive) Narration  or  Description.  In  particular,  Ex- 
pository Narration  (i.e.,  narration  with  expository 
purpose  or  intent)  may  take  the  following  forms: 

(a)  The  so-called  novel  of  purpose,  at  least  in 
many  cases.     Thus  Dickens  in  Nicholas  Nickleby 
portrays  certain  social  conditions  through  the  me- 
dium of  fictitious  narrative.    The  work  is,  in  form, 
narration  (a  novel)  with  exposition  (of  social  con- 
ditions) and  even  persuasion   (to  reform)   for  its 
end. 

(b)  The  parables  of  the  Bible,  also  fables,  alle- 
gories, etc. 

(c)  Generalized  Narrative,  e.g.,  the  passage  of 
a  bill  through  Congress,  the  process  of  mining  and 


98  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

smelting  ore,  the  manufacture  of  an  auto,  "  the 
biography  of  a  raindrop,  a  grain  of  sand,  a  pin." 

(d)  Narrative  with  the  emphasis  laid  on  inter- 
pretation. Thus  the  details  of  a  battle  may  be  so 
arranged  in  the  telling  as  to  bring  out  and  emphasize 
the  author's  theory  as  to  why  the  battle  issued  as  it 
did. 

3.  Style.  The  aim  of  exposition  is  to  make  some- 
thing clear  to  the  mind  of  another.  Hence  clear- 
ness is  the  typical  quality  of  an  effective  expository 
style. 


XIII.     THE  IDEA  OF  GOD 

1.  Now  what  is  Theology?    First,  I  will  tell  you 
what  it  is  not.  ...  I  mean  none  of  these  things  by 
Theology,  I  simply  mean  the  Science  of  God,  or  the 
truths  we  know  about  God  put  into  system;    just 
as  we  have  a  science  of  the  stars,  and  call  it  astron- 
omy, or  of  the  crust  of  the  earth,  and  call  it  geology. 

2.  For  instance,  I  mean,  for  this  is  the  main 
point,  that,  as  in  the  human  frame  there  is  a  living 
principle,  acting  upon  it  and  through  it  by  means 
of  volition,  so,  behind  the  veil  of  the  visible  universe, 
there  is  an  invisible,  intelligent  Being,  acting  on  and 
through  it,  as  and  when  He  will.    Further,  I  mean 
that  this  invisible  Agent  is  in  no  sense  a  soul  of  the 
world,  after  the  analogy  of  human  nature,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  is  absolutely  distinct  from  the  world, 
as  being  its  Creator,  Upholder,  Governor,  and  Sov- 
ereign Lord.    Here  we  are  at  once  brought  into  the 
circle  of  doctrines  which  the  idea  of  God  embodies. 
I  mean  then  by  the  Supreme  Being,  one  who  is 
simply   self-dependent,   and   the   only    Being   who 
is  such ;  moreover,  that  He  is  without  beginning  or 
Eternal,  and  the  only  Eternal;  that  in  consequence 
He  has  lived  a  whole  eternity  by  Himself ;    and 
hence  that  He  is  all-sufficient,  sufficient  for  His  own 

99 


IOO  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

blessedness,  and  all-blessed,  and  ever-blessed.  Fur- 
ther, I  mean  a  Being,  who,  having  these  preroga- 
tives, has  the  Supreme  Good,  or  rather  is  the  Su- 
preme Good,  or  has  all  the  attributes  of  Good  in  in- 
finite intenseness;  all  wisdom,  all  truth,  all  justice, 
all  love,  all  holiness,  all  beautifulness ;  who  is  om- 
nipotent, omniscient,  omnipresent;  ineffably  one, 
absolutely  perfect;  and  such,  that  what  we  do  not 
know  and  cannot  even  imagine  of  Him,  is  far  more 
wonderful  than  what  we  do  and  can.  I  mean  One 
who  is  sovereign  over  His  own  will  and  actions, 
though  always  according  to  the  eternal  Rule  of  right 
and  wrong,  which  is  Himself.  I  mean,  moreover, 
that  He  created  all  things  out  of  nothing,  and  pre- 
serves them  every  moment,  and  could  destroy  them 
as  easily  as  He  made  them;  and  that,  in  conse- 
quence, He  is  separated  from  them  by  an  abyss,  and 
is  incommunicable  in  all  His  attributes.  And  fur- 
ther, He  has  stamped  upon  all  things,  in  the  hour 
of  their  creation,  their  respective  natures,  and  has 
given  them  their  work  and  mission  and  their  length 
of  days,  greater  or  less,  in  their  appointed  place.  I 
mean,  too,  that  He  is  ever  present  with  His  works, 
one  by  one,  and  confronts  everything  He  has  made 
by  His  particular  and  most  loving  Providence,  and 
manifests  Himself  to  each  according  to  its  needs; 
and  has  on  rational  beings  imprinted  the  moral  law, 
and  given  them  power  to  obey  it,  imposing  on  them 
the  duty  of  worship  and  service,  searching  and  scan- 
ning them  through  and  through  with  His  omniscient 


THE  IDEA  OF  GOD  IOI 

eye,  and  putting  before  them  a  present  trial  and  a 
judgment  to  come. 

3.  Such  is  what  Theology  teaches  about  God,  a 
doctrine,  as  the  very  idea  of  its  subject-matter  pre- 
supposes, so  mysterious  as  in  its  fullness  to  lie  be- 
yond any  system,  and  in  particular  aspects  to  be 
simply  external  to  nature,  and  to  seem  in  parts  even 
to  be  irreconcilable  with  itself,  the  imagination  being 
unable  to  embrace  what  the  reason  determines.  It 
teaches  of  a  Being  infinite,  yet  personal ;  all-blessed, 
yet  ever  operative;  absolutely  separate  from  the 
creature,  yet  in  every  part  of  the  creation  at  every 
moment;  above  all  things,  yet  under  everything. 
It  teaches  of  a  Being  who,  though  the  highest,  yet 
in  the  work  of  creation,  conversation,  government, 
retribution,  makes  Himself,  as  it  were,  the  minister 
and  servant  of  all ;  who,  though  inhabiting  eternity, 
allows  Himself  to  take  an  interest,  and  to  have  a 
sympathy,  in  the  matters  of  space  and  time.  His 
are  all  beings,  visible  and  invisible,  the  noblest  and 
the  vilest  of  them.  His  are  the  substance,  and  the 
operation,  and  the  results  of  that  system  of  physical 
nature  into  which  we  are  born.  His  too  are  the 
powers  and  achievements  of  the  intellectual  es- 
sences, on  which  He  has  bestowed  an  independent 
action  and  the  gift  of  origination.  The  laws  of  the 
universe,  the  principles  of  truth,  the  relation  of  one 
thing  to  another,  their  qualities  and  virtues,  the 
order  and  harmony  of  the  whole,  all  that  exists,  is 
from  Him;  and,  if  evil  is  not  from  Him,  as  as- 


IO2  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

suredly  it  is  not,  this  is  because  evil  has  no  substance 
of  its  own,  but  is  only  the  defect,  excess,  perversion, 
or  corruption  of  that  which  has  substance.  All  we 
see,  hear,  and  touch,  the  remote  sideral  firmament, 
as  well  as  our  own  sea  and  land,  and  the  elements 
which  compose  them,  and  the  ordinances  they  obey 
are  His.  The  primary  atoms  of  matter,  their  prop- 
erties, their  mutual  action,  their  disposition  and  col- 
location, electricity,  magnetism,  gravitation,  light 
and  whatever  other  subtle  principles  or  operations 
the  wit  of  man  is  detecting  or  shall  detect  are  the 
work  of  His  hands.  From  Him  has  been  every 
movement  which  has  convulsed  and  refashioned  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  The  most  insignificant  or  un- 
sightly insect  is  from  Him,  and  good  in  its  kind; 
the  ever-teeming,  inexhaustible  swarms  of  animal- 
cule, the  myriads  of  living  motes  invisible  to  the 
naked  eye,  the  restless  ever-spreading  vegetation 
which  creeps  like  a  garment  over  the  whole  earth, 
the  lofty  cedar,  the  umbrageous  banana  are  His. 
His  are  the  tribes  and  families  of  birds  and  beasts, 
their  graceful  forms,  their  wild  gestures,  and  their 
passionate  cries. 

4.  And  so  in  the  intellectual,  moral,  social,  and 
political  world.  Man,  with  his  motives  and  works, 
his  languages,  his  propagation,  his  diffusion,  is  from 
Him.  Agriculture,  medicine,  and  the  arts  of  life 
are  His  gifts.  Society,  laws,  government,  He  is 
their  sanction.  The  pageant  of  earthly  royalty  has 
the  semblance  and  the  benediction  of  the  Eternal 


THE   IDEA  OF   GOD  IO3 

King.  Peace  and  civilization,  commerce  and  ad- 
venture, wars  when  just,  conquest  when  humane 
and  necessary,  have  His  cooperation  and  His  bless- 
ing upon  them.  The  course  of  events,  the  revolu- 
tion of  empires,  the  rise  and  fall  of  states,  the  pe- 
riods and  eras,  the  progresses  and  the  retrogressions 
of  the  world's  history,  not  indeed  the  incidental  sin, 
over-abundant  as  it  is,  but  the  great  outlines  and 
the  results  of  human  affairs,  are  from  His  disposi- 
tion. The  elements  and  types  and  seminal  principles 
and  constructive  powers  of  the  moral  world,  in  ruins 
though  it  be,  are  to  be  referred  to  Him.  He  "  en- 
lighteneth*  every  man  that  cometh  into  this  world." 
His  are  the  dictates  of  the  moral  sense,  and  the  re- 
tributive reproaches  of  conscience.  To  Him  must 
be  ascribed  the  rich  endowments  of  the  intellect, 
the  irradiation  of  genius,  the  imagination  of  the 
poet,  the  sagacity  of  the  politician,  the  wisdom  (as 
Scripture  calls  it),  which  now  rears  and  decorates 
the  Temple,  now  manifests  itself  in  proverb  or  in 
parable.  The  old  saws  of  nations,  the  majestic  pre- 
cepts of  philosophy,  the  luminous  maxims  of  law, 
the  oracles  of  individual  wisdom,  the  traditionary 
rules  of  truth,  justice,  and  religion,  even  though  em- 
bedded in  the  corruption,  or  alloyed  with  the  pride, 
of  the  world,  betoken  His  original  agency  and  His 
long-suffering  presence.  Even  where  there  is  ha- 
bitual rebellion  against  Him,  or  profound  far- 
spreading  social  depravity,  still  the  undercurrent, 
or  the  heroic  outburst,  of  natural  virtue,  as  well  as 


IO4  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

the  yearnings  of  the  heart  after  what  it  has  not, 
and  its  presentiment  of  its  true  remedies,  are  to  be 
ascribed  to  the  Author  of  all  good.  Anticipations 
or  reminiscences  of  His  glory  haunt  the  mind  of 
the  self-sufficient  sage,  and  of  the  pagan  devotee; 
His  writing  is  upon  the  wall,  whether  of  the  Indian 
fane,  or  of  the  porticoes  of  Greece.  He  introduces 
Himself,  He  all  but  concurs,  according  to  His  good 
pleasure,  and  in  His  selected  season,  in  the  issues 
of  unbelief,  superstition,  and  false  worship,  and  He 
changes  the  character  of  acts  by  His  overruling 
operation.  He  condescends,  though  He  gives  no 
sanction,  to  the  altars  and  shrines  of  imposture,  and 
He  makes  His  own  fiat  the  substitute  for  its  sor- 
ceries. He  speaks  amid  the  incantations  of  Ba- 
laam,* raises  Samuel's*  spirit  in  the  witch's  cavern, 
prophesies  of  the  Messias  by  the  tongue  of  the 
Sibyl,*  forces  Python*  to  recognize  His  ministers, 
and  baptizes  by  the  hand  of  the  misbeliever.  He  is 
with  the  heathen  dramatist  in  his  denunciations  of 
injustice  and  tyranny,  and  his  auguries  of  divine 
vengeance  upon  crime.  Even  on  the  unseemly  leg- 
ends of  a  popular  mythology  He  casts  His  shadow, 
and  is  dimly  discerned  in  the  ode  or  the  epic,  as  in 
troubled  water  or  in  fantastic  dreams.  All  that  is 
good,  all  that  is  true,  all  that  is  beautiful,  all  that  is 
beneficent,  be  it  great  or  small,  be  it  perfect  or  frag- 
mentary, natural  as  well  as  supernatural,  moral  as 
well  as  material,  comes  from  Him.  (The  Idea  of  a 
University,  pp.  60-66.) 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  10$ 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  body  of  §  I  is  omitted  in  the  text  as  requir- 
ing special  knowledge  for  its  proper  appreciation. 
What  relation  have  the  first  and  last  sentences  of 
§  I  to  the  whole  exposition?  Discuss  the  appro- 
priateness of  "  The  Idea  of  God  "  as  a  heading  for 
the  selection.  What  does  the  author  undertake  to 
explain  —  the  nature  of  theology  or  of  God  or 
of  both?  Theology,  according  to  Newman,  is 
"  the  truths  we  know  about  God  put  into  system." 
Where  does  he  begin  to  detail  these  truths ?  "I 
mean,  then,  by  the  Supreme  Being,  one  who  is 
simply  self-dependent,  and  the  only  Being  who  is 
such."  Does  this  sentence  embody  a  scientific  defi- 
nition of  God?  In  what  sense  may  the  whole  ex- 
tract be  called  a  "  definition  "  ? 

Unity.  What  is  the  central  idea  of  the  passage 
and  how  is  unity  preserved  with  regard  to  it?  Co- 
herence. Study  the  sequence  of  details  as  shown  in 
this  plan: 

GOD 

I.   In  Himself 

II.   With  respect  to  creatures: 
(o)  creation 
(&)  conservation 
(c)  providence 
III.   A  Being  of  seemingly  conflicting  attributes 


IO6  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

IV.   Dependence  on  God 

(a)  of  the  material  and  brute  creation 

(b)  of  man  in  all  his  activities,  e.g.,  eco- 

nomic, social  and  political,  'moral,  in- 
tellectual and  religious 

Indicate  the  beginning  and  end  of  the  several 
members  of  the  plan.  Observe  the  repetition  of 
"I  mean"  (§2)  and  the  aid  of  such  repetition  to 
coherence.  Emphasis.  Do  beginning  and  end  of 
the  exposition  make  for  emphasis?  How?  Do  be- 
ginning and  end  of  the  several  paragraphs  also  make 
for  emphasis? 

Does  the  passage  show  eloquence?  impassioned 
eloquence?  Explain  these  terms.  Discuss  the  style 
and  the  influence  upon  it  of  inversion  and  parallel 
structure.  May  the  style  be  called  a  typical  one  for 
exposition.  If  so,  why? 


XIV.    THE  POETRY  OF  MONACHISM 

i.  I  HAVE  now  said  enough  both  to  explain  and 
to  vindicate  the  biographer  of  St.  Maurus,*  when 
he  says  that  the  object,  and  life,  and  reward  of  the 
ancient  monachism  was  "  summa*  quies  "  —  the 
absence  of  all  excitement,  sensible  and  intellectual, 
and  the  vision  of  Eternity.  And  therefore  have  I 
called  the  monastic  state  the  most  poetical  of  reli- 
gious disciplines.  It  was  a  return  to  that  primitive 
age  of  the  world,  of  which  poets  have  so  often  sung, 
the  simple  life  of  Arcadia*  or  the  reign  of  Saturn, 
when  fraud  and  violence  were  unknown.  It  was 
a  bringing  back  of  those  real,  not  fabulous,  scenes 
of  innocence  and  miracle,  when  Adam  delved,  or 
Abel  kept  sheep,  or  Noe  planted  the  vine,  and  Angels 
visited  them.  It  was  a  fulfillment  in  the  letter,  of 
the  glowing*  imagery  of  prophets,  about  the  evan- 
gelical period.  Nature  for  art,  the  wide  earth  and 
the  majestic  heavens  for  the  crowded  city,  the  sub- 
dued and  docile  beasts  of  the  field  for  the  wild 
passions  and  rivalries  of  social  life,  tranquillity 
for  ambition  and  care,  divine  meditation  for  the 
exploits  of  the  intellect,  the  Creator  for  the  creature, 
such  was  the  normal  condition  of  the  monk.  He 
had  tried  the  world,  and  found  its  hollowness;  or 
107 


IO8  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

he  had  eluded  its  fellowship,  before  it  had  solicited 
him ;  —  and  so  St.  Anthony*  fled  to  the  desert,  and 
St.  Hilarion*  sought  the  seashore,  and  St.  Basil* 
ascended  the  mountain  ravine,  and  St.  Benedict 
took  refuge  in  his  cave,  and  St.  Giles*  buried  him- 
self in  the  forest,  and  St.  Martin*  chose  the  broad 
river,  in  order  that  the  world  might  be  shut  out 
of  view,  and  the  soul  might  be  at  rest.  And  such  a 
rest  of  intellect  and  of  passion  as  this  is  full  of  the 
elements  of  the  poetical. 

2.  I  have  no  intention  of  committing  myself  here 
to  a  definition  of  poetry ;  I  may  be  thought  wrong 
in  the  use  of  the  term;  but,  if  I  explain  what  I 
mean  by  it,  no  harm  is  done,  whatever  be  my  in- 
accuracy, and  each  reader  may  substitute  for  it 
some  word  he  likes  better.  Poetry,  then,  I  conceive, 
whatever  be  its  metaphysical  essence,  or  however 
various  may  be  its  kinds,  whether  it  more  properly 
belongs  to  action  or  to  suffering,  nay,  whether  it  is 
more  at  home  with  society  or  with  nature,  whether 
its  spirit  is  seen  to  best  advantage  in  Homer  or  in 
Virgil,  at  any  rate,  is  always  the  antagonistic  to 
science.  As  science  makes  progress  in  any  subject- 
matter,  poetry  recedes  from  it.  The  two  cannot 
stand  together;  they  belong  respectively  to  two 
modes  of  viewing  things,  which  are  contradictory 
of  each  other.  Reason  investigates,  analyzes,  num- 
bers, weighs,  measures,  ascertains,  locates  the  ob- 
jects of  its  contemplation,  and  thus  gains  a  scien- 
tific knowledge  of  them.  Science  results  in  system, 


THE  POETRY  OF   MONACHISM 

which  is  complex  unity;  poetry  delights  in  the  in- 
definite and  various  as  contrasted  with  unity,  and 
in  the  simple  as  contrasted  with  system.  The  aim 
of  science  is  to  get  a  hold  of  things ;  to  grasp  them, 
to  handle  them,  to  comprehend  them ;  that  is  (to  use 
the  familiar  term),  to  master  them,  or  to  be  supe- 
rior to  them.  Its  success  lies  in  being  able  to  draw 
a  line  round  them,  and  to  tell  where  each  of  them 
is  to  be  found  within  that  circumference,  and  how 
each  lies  relatively  to  all  the  rest.  Its  mission  is  to 
destroy  ignorance,  doubt,  surmise,  suspense,  illu- 
sions, fears,  deceits,  according  to  the  "  Felix*  qui 
potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas  "  of  the  Poet,  whose 
whole  passage,  by  the  way,  may  be  taken  as  drawing 
out  the  contrast  between  the  poetical  and  scientific. 
But  as  to  the  poetical,  very  different  is  the  frame 
of  mind  which  is  necessary  for  its  perception.  It 
demands,  as  its  primary  condition,  that  we  should 
not  put  ourselves  above  the  objects  in  which  it  re- 
sides, but  at  their  feet ;  that  we  should  feel  them 
to  be  above  and  beyond  us,  that  we  should  look  up 
to  them,  and  that,  instead  of  fancying  that  we  can 
comprehend  them,  we  should  take  for  granted  that 
we  are  surrounded  and  comprehended  by  them  our- 
selves. It  implies  that  we  understand  them  to  be 
vast,  immeasurable,  impenetrable,  inscrutable,  mys- 
terious; so  that  at  best  we  are  only  forming  con- 
jectures about  them,  not  conclusions,  for  the  phe- 
nomena which  they  represent  admit  of  many  ex- 
planations, and  we  cannot  know  the  true  one. 


IIO  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

Poetry  does  not  address  the  reason,  but  the  imagina- 
tion and  affections;  it  leads  to  admiration,  enthu- 
siasm, devotion,  love.  The  vague,  the  uncertain, 
the  irregular,  the  sudden,  are  among  its  attributes 
or  sources.  Hence  it  is  that  a  child's  mind  is  so 
full  of  poetry,  because  he  knows  so  little;  and  an 
old  man  of  the  world  so  devoid  of  poetry,  because 
his  experience  of  facts  is  so  wide.  Hence  it  is  that 
nature  is  commonly  more  poetical  than  art,  in  spite 
of  Lord  Byron,*  because  it  is  less  comprehensible 
and  less  patient  of  definitions;  history  more  poeti- 
cal than  philosophy;  the  savage  than  the  citizen; 
the  knight-errant  than  the  brigadier-general;  the 
winding  bridle-path  than  the  straight  railroad ;  the 
sailing  vessel  than  the  steamer;  the  ruin  than  the 
spruce  suburban  box;*  the  Turkish  robe  or  Span- 
ish* doublet  than  the  French  dress  coat.  I  have  now 
said  more  than  enough  to  make  it  clear  what  I  mean 
by  that  element  in  the  old  monastic  life  to  which  I 
have  given  the  name  of  the  Poetical. 

3.  Now,  in  many  ways  the  family  of  St.  Benedict 
answers  to  this  description,  as  we  shall  see  if  we 
look  into  its  history.  Its  spirit  indeed  is  ever  one, 
but  not  its  outward  circumstances.  It  is  not  an 
Order  proceeding  from  one  mind  at  a  particular 
date,  and  appearing  all  at  once  in  its  full  perfection, 
and  in  its  extreme  development,  and  in  form  one 
and  the  same  everywhere  and  from  first  to  last,  as 
is  the  case  with  other  great  religious  institutions; 
but  it  is  an  organization,  diverse,  complex,  and  ir- 


THE   POETRY   OF   MONACHISM  III 

regular,  and  variously  ramified,  rich  rather  than 
symmetrical,  with  many  origins  and  centers  and  new 
beginnings  and  the  action  of  local  influences,  like 
some  great  natural  growth;  with  tokens,  on  the 
face  of  it,  of  its  being  a  divine  work,  not  the  mere 
creation  of  human  genius.  Instead  of  progressing 
on  plan  and  system  and  from  the  will  of  a  superior, 
it  has  shot  forth  and  run  out  as  if  spontaneously, 
and  has  shaped  itself  according  to  events,  from  an 
irrepressible  fullness  of  life  within,  and  from  the 
energetic  self-action  of  its  parts,  like  those  symbol- 
ical creatures  in  the  prophet's  vision,  which  "  went* 
every  one  of  them  straight  forward,  whither  the 
impulse  of  the  spirit  was  to  go."  It  has  been  poured 
out  over  the  earth,  rather  than  been  sent,  with  a 
silent  mysterious  operation,  while  men  slept,  and 
through  the  romantic  adventures  of  individuals, 
which  are  well  nigh  without  record;  and  thus  it 
has  come  down  to  us,  not  risen  up  among  us,  and 
is  found  rather  than  established.  Its  separate  and 
scattered  monasteries  occupy  the  land,  each  in  its 
place,  with  a  majesty  parallel,  but  superior,  to  that 
of  old  aristocratic  houses.  Their  known  antiquity, 
their  unknown  origin,  their  long  eventful  history, 
their  connection  with  Saints  and  Doctors  when  on 
earth,  the  legends  which  hang  about  them,  their 
rival  ancestral  honors,  their  extended  sway  perhaps 
over  other  religious  houses,  their  hold  upon  the 
associations  of  the  neighborhood,  their  traditional 
friendships  and  compacts  with  other  great  land- 


112  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

lords,  the  benefits  they  have  conferred,  the  sanctity 
which  they  breathe,  —  these  and  the  like  attributes 
make  them  objects,  at  once  of  awe  and  of  affection. 
(The  Mission  of  St.  Benedict  in  Historical 
Sketches,  voh  ii,  pp.  385-389.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Note  in  the  initial  sentence  of  §  I  the  neat  sum- 
ming-up of  the  preceding-  section  of  the  essay. 
What  is  the  topic  of  §  I  ?  its  method  of  develop- 
ment? Is  there  a  unifying  theme  in  all  three 
paragraphs?  State  it.  Does  the  author  really  de- 
fine poetry  in  §  2  ?  Does  he  in  any  manner  explain 
its  nature?  What  is  his  method  of  explanation? 
Is  it  an  effective  one?  Express  in  terms  of  your 
own  what  the  author  means  by  the  Poetical?  Dis- 
cuss the  examples  in  the  second  last  sentence  of  §  2. 
What  is  the  point  of  each?  Explain  in  your  own 
words  how  the  "  family  of  St.  Benedict "  answers 
to  Newman's  conception  of  the  Poetical. 


XV.    WHAT  IS  A  UNIVERSITY? 

1.  IF  I  were  asked  to  describe  as  briefly  and  pop& 
larly  as  I  could,  what  a  University  was,  I  should 
draw  my  answer  from  its  ancient  designation  of  a 
Studium  Generate,  or  "  School  of  Universal  Learn- 
ing."    This  description  implies  the  assemblage  of 
strangers  from  all  parts  in  one  spot;  —  from  all 
parts;   else,  how  will  you  find  professors  and  stu- 
dents for  every  department  of  knowledge?  and  in 
one  spot;  else,  how  can  there  be  any  school  at  all  ? 
Accordingly,  in  its  simple  and  rudimental  form,  it 
is  a  school  of  knowledge  of  every  kind,  consisting 
of  teachers  and  learners  from  every  quarter.    Many 
things  are  requisite  to  complete  and  satisfy  the  idea 
embodied  in  this  description;    but  such  as  this  a 
University  seems  to  be  in  its  essence,  a  place  for  the 
communication  and  circulation  of  thought,  by  means 
of  personal  intercourse,  through  a  wide  extent  of 
country. 

2.  There  is  nothing  far-fetched  or  unreasonable 
in  the  idea  thus  presented  to  us;   and  if  this  be  a 
University,  then  a  University  does  but  contemplate 
a  necessity  of  our  nature,  and  is  but  one  specimen 
in  a  particular  medium,  out  of  many  which  might 
be  induced  in  others,  of  a  provision  for  that  ne- 

113 


*S4  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

cessity.  Mutual  education,  in  a  large  sense  of  thv_ 
word,  is  one  of  the  great  and  incessant  occupations 
of  human  society,  carried  on  partly  with  set  purpose, 
and  partly  not.  One  generation  forms  another ;  and 
the  existing  generation  is  ever  acting  and  reacting 
upon  itself  in  the  persons  of  its  individual  members. 
Now,  in  this  process,  books,  I  need  scarcely  say, 
that  is,  the  litera  scripta*  are  one  special  instru- 
ment. It  is  true;  and  emphatically  so  in  this  age. 
Considering  the  prodigious  powers  of  the  press,  and 
how  they  are  developed  at  this  time  in  the  never-re- 
mitting issue  of  periodicals,  tracts,  pamphlets,  works 
in  series,  and  light  literature,  we  must  allow  there 
never  was  a  time  which  promised  fairer  for  dis- 
pensing with  every  other  means  of  information  and 
instruction.  What  can  we  want  more,  you  will 
say,  for  the  intellectual  education  of  the  whole  man, 
and  for  every  man,  than  so  exuberant  and  diversi- 
fied and  persistent  a  promulgation  of  all  kinds  of 
knowledge?  Why,  you  will  ask,  need  we  go  up  to 
knowledge,  when  knowledge  comes  down  to  us? 
The  Sibyl*  wrote  her  prophecies  upon  the  leaves  of 
the  forest,  and  wasted  them ;  but  here  such  careless 
profusion  might  be  prudently  indulged,  for  it  can 
be  afforded  without  loss,  in  consequence  of  the  al- 
most fabulous  fecundity  of  the  instrument  which 
these  latter  ages  have  invented.  We  have  sermons 
in  stones,  and  books  in  running  brooks;  works 
larger  and  more  comprehensive  than  those  which 
have  gained  for  ancients  an  immortality,  issue  forth 


WHAT   IS  A   UNIVERSITY?  11$ 

every  morning,  and  are  projected  onwards  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth  at  the  rate  of  hundreds  of  miles 
a  day.  Our  seats  are  strewed,  our  pavements  are 
powdered,  with  swarms  of  little  tracts ;  and  the  very 
bricks  of  our  city  walls  preach  wisdom,  by  inform- 
ing us  by  their  placards  where  we  can  at  once 
cheaply  purchase  it. 

3.  I  allow  all  this,  and  much  more;  such  cer- 
tainly is  our  popular  education,  and  its  effects  are 
remarkable.  Nevertheless,  after  all,  even  in  this 
age,  whenever  men  are  really  serious  about  getting 
what,  in  the  language  of  trade,  is  called  "  a  good 
article,"  when  they  aim  at  something  precise,  some- 
thing refined,  something  really  luminous,  something 
really  large,  something  choice,  they  go  to  another 
market ;  they  avail  themselves,  in  some  shape  or 
other,  of  the  rival  method,  the  ancient  method,  of 
oral  instruction,  of  present  communication  between 
man  and  man,  of  teachers  instead  of  learning,  of  the 
personal  influence  of  a  master,  and  the  humble  in- 
itiation of  a  disciple,  and,  in  consequence,  of  great 
centers  of  pilgrimage  and  throng,  which  such  a 
method  of  education  necessarily  involves.  This, 
I  think,  will  be  found  to  hold  good  in  all  those  de- 
partments or  aspects  of  society,  which  possess  an 
interest  sufficient  to  bind  men  together,  or  to  con- 
stitute what  is  called  "  a  world."  It  holds  in  the 
political  world,  and  in  the  high  world,  and  in  the 
religious  world;  and  it  holds  also  in  the  literary 
and  scientific  world. 


Il6  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

4.  If  the  actions  of  men  may  be  taken  as  any 
test  of  their  convictions,  then  we  have  reason  for 
saying  this,  viz. :  —  that  the  province  and  the  in- 
estimable benefit  of  the  liter  a  scrip  ta  is  that  of  being 
a  record  of  the  truth,  and  an  authority  of  appeal, 
and  an  instrument  of  teaching  in  the  hands  of  a 
teacher;  but  that,  if  we  wish  to  become  exact  and 
fully  furnished  in  any  branch  of  knowledge  which 
is  diversified  and  complicated,  we  must  consult  the 
living  man  and  listen  to  his  living  voice.  I  am  not 
bound  to  investigate  the  cause  of  this,  and  anything 
I  may  say  will,  I  am  conscious,  be  short  of  its  full 
analysis ;  —  perhaps  we  may  suggest  that  no  books 
can  get  through  the  number  of  minute  questions 
which  it  is  possible  to  ask  on  any  extended  subject, 
or  can  hit  upon  the  very  difficulties  which  are  sev- 
erally felt  by  each  reader  in  succession.  Or  again, 
that  no  book  can  convey  the  special  spirit  and  deli- 
cate peculiarities  of  its  subject  with  that  rapidity 
and  certainty  which  attend  on  the  sympathy  of  mind 
with  mind,  through  the  eyes,  the  look,  the  accent,  and 
the  manner,  in  casual  expressions  thrown  off  at  the 
moment,  and  the  unstudied  turns  of  familiar  con- 
versation. But  I  am  already  dwelling  too  long  on 
what  is  but  an  incidental  portion  of  my  main  sub- 
ject. Whatever  be  the  cause,  the  fact  is  undeniable. 
The  general  principles  of  any  study  you  may  learn 
by  books  at  home;  but  the  detail,  the  color,  the 
tone,  the  air,  the  life  which  makes  it  live  in  us,  you 
must  catch  all  these  from  those  in  whom  it  live? 


WHAT   IS  A  UNIVERSITY?  117 

already.  You  must  imitate  the  student  in  French 
or  German,  who  is  not  content  with  his  grammar, 
but  goes  to  Paris  or  Dresden:  you  must  take  ex- 
ample from  the  young  artist,  who  aspires  to  visit 
the  great  Masters  in  Florence  and  in  Rome.  Till 
we  have  discovered  some  intellectual  daguerreotype, 
which  takes  off  the  course  of  thought,  and  the  form, 
lineaments,  and  features  of  truth,  as  completely  and 
minutely,  as  the  optical  instrument  reproduces  the 
sensible  object,  we  must  come  to  the  teachers  of 
wisdom  to  learn  wisdom,  we  must  repair  to  the  foun- 
tain, and  drink  there.  Portions  of  it  may  go  from 
thence  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  by  means  of  books ; 
but  the  fullness  is  in  one  place  alone.  It  is  in  such 
assemblages  and  congregations  of  intellect  that 
books  themselves,  the  master-pieces  of  human  ge- 
nius, are  written,  or  at  least  originated. 

5.  The  principle  on  which  I  have  been  insisting 
is  so  obvious,  and  instances  in  point  are  so  ready, 
that  I  should  think  it  tiresome  to  proceed  with  the 
subject,  except  that  one  or  two  illustrations  may 
serve  to  explain  my  own  language  about  it,  which 
may  not  have  done  justice  to  the  doctrine  which  it 
has  been  intended  to  enforce. 

6.  But  I  have  said  more  than  enough  in  illustra- 
tion;  I  end  as  I  began;  —  a  University  is  a  place 
of  concourse,  whither  students  come  from  every 
quarter  for  every  kind  of  knowledge.    You  cannot 
have  the  best  of  every  kind  everywhere;  you  must 


Il8  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

go  to  some  great  city  or  emporium  for  it.  There 
you  have  all  the  choicest  productions  of  nature  and 
art  together,  which  you  find  each  in  its  own  sepa- 
rate place  elsewhere.  All  the  riches  of  the  land, 
and  of  the  earth,  are  carried  up  thither;  there  are 
the  best  markets,  and  there  the  best  workmen.  It 
is  the  center  of  trade,  the  supreme  court  of  fashion, 
the  umpire  of  rival  talents,  and  the  standard  of 
things  rare  and  precious.  It  is  the  place  for  seeing 
galleries  of  first-rate  pictures,  and  for  hearing  won- 
derful voices  and  performers  of  transcendent  skill. 
It  is  the  place  for  great  preachers,  great  orators, 
great  nobles,  great  statesmen.  In  the  nature  of 
things,  greatness  and  unity  go  together ;  excellence 
implies  a  center.  And  such  for  the  third  or  fourth 
time,  is  a  University;  I  hope  I  do  not  weary  out 
the  reader  by  repeating  it.  It  is  the  place  to  which 
a  thousand  schools  make  contributions;  in  which 
the  intellect  may  safely  range  and  speculate,  sure  to 
find  its  equal  in  some  antagonistic  activity,  and  its 
judge  in  the  tribunal  of  truth.  It  is  a  place  where 
inquiry  is  pushed  forward,  and  discoveries  verified 
and  perfected,  and  rashness  rendered  innocuous,  and 
error  exposed,  by  the  collision  of  mind  with  mind, 
and  knowledge  with  knowledge.  It  is  the  place 
where  the  professor  becomes  eloquent,  and  is  a  mis- 
sionary and  preacher,  displaying  his  science  in  its 
most  complete  and  most  winning  form,  pouring  it 
forth  with  the  zeal  of  enthusiasm,  and  lighting  up 
his  own  love  of  it  in  the  breasts  of  his  hearers.  It 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  1 19 

is  the  place  where  the  catechist  makes  good  his 
ground  as  he  goes,  treading  in  the  truth  day  by  day 
into  the  ready  memory,  and  wedging  and  tightening 
it  into  the  expanding  reason.  It  is  a  place  which 
wins  the  admiration  of  the  young  by  its  celebrity, 
kindles  the  middle-aged  by  its  beauty,  and  rivets  the 
fidelity  of  the  old  by  its  associations.  It  is  a  seat 
of  wisdom,  a  light  of  the  world,  a  minister  of  the 
faith,  an  Alma  Mater  of  the  rising  generation.  It 
is  this  and  a  great  deal  more,  and  demands  a  some- 
what better  head  than  mine  to  describe  it  well. 

7.  Such  is  a  University  in  its  idea  and  in  its  pur- 
pose ;  such  in  good  measure  has  it  before  now  been 
in  fact.  Shall  it  ever  be  again  ?  We  are  going  for- 
ward in  the  strength  of  the  Cross,  under  the  pat- 
ronage of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  in  the  name  of  St. 
Patrick,*  to  attempt  it.  (Historical  Sketches,  vol. 
iii,  pp.  6-9,  15-17-) 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  first  step  in  exposition  is  definition.  Study 
§  i  for  brief,  popular  definition.  Note  the  devel- 
opment, viz.,  definition,  exposition  of  terms,  repe- 
tition. In  what  sense  may  the  whole  selection  be 
called  definition?  In  §  6  the  author  returns  to  his 
original  purpose.  What  is  this?  Note  here  one  of 
Newman's  favorite  devices  in  exposition  and  argu- 
mentation, viz.,  to  end  by  restating  in  more  detailed 
and  emphatic  form  some  theme  or  proposition  set 


I2O  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

forth  in  the  initial  paragraph.  Analyze  the  topical 
development  of  §  6,  especially  for  skillful  use  of  rep- 
etition. (The  omitted  paragraphs  are  taken  up 
with  illustrations  of  the  principle  on  which  New- 
man is  insisting.)  No  writer  was  ever  more  fond 
of  concrete  illustration  than  Newman.  Discuss 
the  advantages  in  expository  writing  of  apt,  con- 
crete, copious  illustration. 

Unity.  Does  the  author  do  more  than  merely 
answer  the  question  "  What  is  a  University?  "?  If 
so,  does  unity  suffer?  What  is  there  to  justify  the 
discussion  of  the  necessity  of  a  university  in  a  chap- 
ter which  professes  to  deal  with  the  meaning  of  a 
university?  Coherence.  Observe  the  use  of  all  the 
chief  devices  for  coherence  in  composition,  e.g., 
abundant  connectives,  clear  transitions,  a  rational 
principle  of  order.  Emphasis.  Are  beginning  and 
end  massed  with  a  view  to  interest?  to  emphasis? 
Make  an  outline  of  the  passage,  showing  the  logical 
and  structural  relations  of  the  parts. 

Newman  considered  the  series  of  papers  to  which 
the  present  essay  belongs  as  written  in  a  "  conver- 
sational tone."  (Historical  Sketches,  vol.  iii,  Rise 
and  Progress  of  Universities,  Advertisement.)  Do 
you  concur  in  this  criticism  as  far  as  it  concerns  the 
present  essay?  Is  the  style  clear?  direct?  ani- 
mated? popular?  Discuss  its  merits  as  a  typical 
expository  style. 


XVI.     THE  DEFINITION  OF  A  GENTLE- 
MAN 

i.  HENCE  it  is  that  it  is  almost  a  definition  of  a 
gentleman  to  say  he  is  one  who  never  inflicts  pain. 
This  description  is  both  refined  and,  as  far  as  it  goes, 
accurate.  He  is  mainly  occupied  in  merely  remov- 
ing the  obstacles  which  hinder  the  free  and  unem- 
barrassed action  of  those  about  him ;  and  he 
concurs  with  their  movements  rather  than  takes  the 
initiative  himself.  His  benefits  may  be  considered 
as  parallel  to  what  are  called  comforts  or  conven- 
iences in  arrangements  of  a  personal  nature :  like  an 
easy  chair  or  a  good  fire,  which  do  their  part  in  dis- 
pelling cold  and  fatigue,  though  nature  provides 
both  means  of  rest  and  animal  heat  without  them. 
The  true  gentleman  in  like  manner  carefully  avoids 
whatever  may  cause  a  jar  or  a  jolt  in  the  minds  of 
those  with  whom  he  is  cast ;  —  all  clashing  of  opin- 
ion, or  collision  of  feeling,  all  restraint,  or  suspicion, 
or  gloom,  or  resentment ;  his  great  concern  being  to 
make  everyone  at  their  ease  and  at  home.  He  has 
his  eyes  on  all  his  company;  he  is  tender  towards 
the  bashful,  gentle  towards  the  distant,  and  merciful 
towards  the  absurd ;  he  can  recollect  to  whom  he  is 
speaking ;  he  guards  against  unseasonable  allusions, 
121 


122  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

or  topics  which  may  irritate ;  he  is  seldom  promi- 
nent in  conversation,  and  never  wearisome.  He 
makes  light  of  favors  while  he  does  them,  and  seems 
to  be  receiving  when  he  is  conferring.  He  never 
speaks  of  himself  except  when  compelled,  never  de- 
fends himself  by  mere  retort,  he  has  no  ears  for 
slander  or  gossip,  is  scrupulous  in  imputing  motives 
to  those  who  interfere  with  him,  and  interprets 
everything  for  the  best.  He  is  never  mean  or  little 
in  his  disputes,  never  takes  unfair  advantage,  never 
mistakes  personalities  or  sharp  sayings  for  argu- 
ments, or  insinuates  evil  which  he  dare  not  say  out. 
From  a  long-sighted  prudence,  he  observes  the 
maxim  of  the  ancient  sage,  that  we  should  ever 
conduct  ourselves  towards  our  enemy  as  if  he  were 
one  day  to  be  our  friend.  He  has  too  much  good 
sense  to  be  affronted  at  insults,  he  is  too  well  em- 
ployed to  remember  injuries,  and  too  indolent  to  bear 
malice.  He  is  patient,  forbearing,  and  resigned,  on 
philosophical  principles ;  he  submits  to  pain,  because 
it  is  inevitable,  to  bereavement,  because  it  is  ir- 
reparable, and  to  death,  because  it  is  his  destiny.  If 
he  engages  in  controversy  of  any  kind,  his  disci- 
plined intellect  preserves  him  from  the  blundering 
discourtesy  of  better,  perhaps,  but  less  educated 
minds;  who,  like  blunt  weapons,  tear  and  hack  in- 
stead of  cutting  clean,  who  mistake  the  point  in  ar- 
gument, waste  their  strength  on  trifles,  misconceive 
their  adversary,  and  leave  the  question  more  in- 
volved than  they  find  it.  He  may  be  right  or  wrong 


THE   DEFINITION   OF   A   GENTLEMAN  123 

in  his  opinion,  but  he  is  too  clear-headed  to  be  un- 
just; he  is  as  simple  as  he  is  forcible,  and  as  brief  as 
he  is  decisive.  Nowhere  shall  we  find  greater  can- 
dor, consideration,  indulgence:  he  throws  himself 
into  the  minds  of  his  opponents,  he  accounts  for 
their  mistakes.  He  knows  the  weakness  of  human 
reason  as  well  as  its  strength,  its  province  and  its 
limits.  If  he  be  an  unbeliever,  he  will  be  too  pro- 
found and  large-minded  to  ridicule  religion  or  to 
act  against  it;  he  is  too  wise  to  be  a  dogmatist  or 
fanatic  in  his  infidelity.  He  respects  piety  and  de- 
votion; he  even  supports  institutions  as  venerable, 
beautiful,  or  useful,  to  which  he  does  not  assent ;  he 
honors  the  ministers  of  religion,  and  it  contents  him 
to  decline  its  mysteries  without  assailing  or  denounc- 
ing them.  He  is  a  friend  of  religious  toleration, 
and  that,  not  only  because  his  philosophy  has  taught 
him  to  look  on  all  forms  of  faith  with  an  impartial 
eye,  but  also  from  the  gentleness  and  effeminacy  of 
feeling,  which  is  the  attendant  on  civilization. 

2.  Not  that  he  may  not  hold  a  religion,  too,  in 
his  own  way,  even  when  he  is  not  a  Christian.  In 
that  case  his  religion  is  one  of  imagination  and  sen- 
timent; it  is  the  embodiment  of  those  ideas  of  the 
sublime,  majestic,  and  beautifull,  without  which 
there  can  be  no  large  philosophy.  Sometimes  he 
acknowledges  the  being  of  God,  sometimes  he  in- 
vests an  unknown  principle  or  quality  with  the  at- 
tributes of  perfection.  And  this  deduction  of  his 
reason,  or  creation  of  his  fancy,  he  makes  the  occa- 


124  PROBE,  TYPES  IN  NEWMAN 

sion  of  such  excellent  thoughts,  and  the  starting- 
point  of  so  varied  and  systematic  a  teaching,  that 
he  even  seems  like  a  disciple  of  Christianity  itself. 
From  the  very  accuracy  and  steadiness  of  his  logical 
powers,  he  is  able  to  see  what  sentiments  are  con- 
sistent in  those  who  hold  any  religious  doctrine  at 
all,  and  he  appears  to  others  to  feel  and  to  hold  a 
whole  circle  of  theological  truths,  which  exist  in  his 
mind  no  otherwise  than  as  a  number  of  deductions. 
3.  Such  are  some  of  the  lineaments  of  the  ethical 
character,  which  the  cultivated  intellect  will  form, 
apart  from  religious  principle.  They  are  seen  within 
the  pale  of  the  Church  and  without  it,  in  holy  men, 
and  in  profligate ;  they  form  the  beau-ideal*  of  the 
world;  they  partly  assist  and  partly  distort  the 
development  of  the  Catholic.  They  may  subserve 
the  education  of  a  St.  Francis  de  Sales*  or  a  Car- 
dinal Pole  ;*  they  may  be  the  limits  of  the  contem- 
plation of  a  Shaftesbury*  or  a  Gibbon.*  Basil  and 
Julian*  were  fellow-students  at  the  schools  of 
Athens ;  and  one  became  the  Saint  and  Doctor  of 
the  Church,  the  other  her  scoffing  and  relentless  foe. 
(The  Idea  of  a  University,  pp.  208-211.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Why  does  the  author  qualify  the  statement  in  the 
first  sentence  of  §  I  by  "  almost "  ?  What  kind  of 
definition  is  exemplified  in  this  sentence?  What  is 
the  topic  of  §  i  and  its  method  of  development? 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  125 

What  effect  of  coherence  or  other  quality  results 
from  the  repetition  of  "  he  "  in  §  I  ?  Discuss  §  3 
as  an  example  of  the  rhetorical  value  of  the  spe- 
cific term.  Substitute  abstract  equivalents  for  the 
proper  names  and  note  the  results. 

,The  present  passage,  with  some  additional  para- 
graphs, is  found  in  W.  S.  Lilly's  Characteristics  of 
Newman  under  the  caption  "  The  Ethics  of  Cul- 
ture." Does  the  caption  fit  ?  If  so,  why  ?  To  what 
extent  is  the  description  in  §  I  applicable  to  one  who 
is  a  gentleman  on  Christian  or  supernatural 
grounds  ?  "  He  is  a  friend  of  religious  toleration, 
etc."  Clearly  the  author  does  not  imply  that  toler- 
ance of  dogmatic  error  is  a  postulate  of  true 
civilization. 


XVII.     ACCURACY  OF  MIND 

i.  IT  has  often  been  observed  that,  when  the  eyes 
of  the  infant  first  open  upon  the  world,  the  reflected 
rays  of  light  which  strike  them  from  the  myriad  of 
surrounding  objects  present  to  him  no  image,  but  a 
medley  of  colors  and  shadows.  They  do  not  form 
into  a  whole ;  they  do  not  rise  into  foregrounds  and 
melt  into  distances ;  they  do  not  divide  into  groups  ; 
they  do  not  coalesce  into  unities ;  they  do  not  com- 
bine into  persons ;  but  each  particular  hue  and  tint 
stands  by  itself,  wedged  in  amid  a  thousand  others 
upon  the  vast  and  flat  mosaic,  having  no  intelli- 
gence, and  conveying  no  story,  any  more  than  the 
wrong  side  of  some  rich  tapestry.  The  little  babe 
stretches  out  his  arms  and  fingers,  as  if  to  grasp 
or  to  fathom  the  many-colored  vision ;  and  thus  he 
gradually  learns  the  connection  of  part  with  part, 
separates  what  moves  from  what  is  stationary, 
watches  the  coming  and  going  of  figures,  masters 
the  idea  of  shape  and  of  perspective,  calls  in  the 
information  conveyed  through  the  other  senses  to 
assist  him  in  his  mental  process,  and  thus  gradually 
converts  a  kaleidoscope  into  a  picture.  The  first 
view  was  the  more  splendid,  the  second  the  more 
real;  the  former  more  poetical,  the  latter  more 
126 


ACCURACY  OF   MIND  127 

philosophical.  Alas !  what  are  we  doing  all  through 
life,  both  as  a  necessity  and  as  a  duty,  but  unlearn- 
ing the  world's  poetry,  and  attaining  to  its  prose! 
This  is  our  education,  as  boys  and  as  men,  in  the 
action  of  life,  and  in  the  closet  or  library;  in  our 
affections,  in  our  aims,  in  our  hopes,  and  in  our 
memories.  And  in  like  manner  it  is  the  education 
of  our  intellect ;  I  say,  that  one  main  portion  of  in- 
tellectual education,  of  the  labors  of  both  school  and 
university,  is  to  remove  the  original  dimness  of  the 
mind's  eye;  to  strengthen  and  perfect  its  vision; 
to  enable  it  to  look  out  into  the  world  right  forward, 
steadily  and  truly;  to  give  the  mind  clearness,  ac- 
curacy, precision ;  to  enable  it  to  use  words  aright, 
to  understand  what  it  says,  to  conceive  justly  what 
it  thinks  about,  to  abstract,  compare,  analyze,  divide, 
define,  and  reason,  correctly.  There  is  a  particular 
science  which  takes  these  matters  in  hand,  and  it 
is  called  logic ;  but  it  is  not  by  logic,  certainly  not 
by  logic  alone,  that  the  faculty  I  speak  of  is  ac- 
quired. The  infant  does  not  learn  to  spell  and  read 
the  hues  upon  his  retina  by  any  scientific  rule ;  nor 
does  the  student  learn  accuracy  of  thought  by  any 
manual  or  treatise.  The  instruction  given  him,  of 
whatever  kind,  if  it  be  really  instruction,  is  mainly, 
or  at  least  preeminently,  this,  —  a  discipline  in  ac- 
curacy of  mind. 

2.  Boys  are  always  more  or  less  inaccurate,  and 
too  many,  or  rather  the  majority,  remain  boys  all 
their  lives.  When,  for  instance,  I  hear  speakers  at 


128  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

public  meetings  declaiming  about  "  large  and  en- 
lightened views,"  or  about  "  freedom  of  conscience," 
or  about  "  the  Gospel,"  or  any  other  popular  sub- 
ject of  the  day,  I  am  far  from  denying  that  some 
among  them  know  what  they  are  talking  about; 
but  it  would  be  satisfactory,  in  a  particular  case,  to 
be  sure  of  the  fact;  for  it  seems  to  me  that  those 
household  words  may  stand  in  a  man's  mind  for  a 
something  or  other,  very  glorious  indeed,  but  very 
misty,  pretty  much  like  the  idea  of  "  civilization  " 
which  floats  before  the  mental  vision  of  a  Turk,  — 
that  is,  if,  when  he  interrupts  his  smoking  to  utter 
the  word,  he  condescends  to  reflect  whether  it  has 
any  meaning  at  all.  Again,  a  critic  in  a  periodical 
dashes  off,  perhaps,  his  praises  of  a  new  work,  as 
"  talented,  original,  replete  with  intense  interest,  ir- 
resistible in  argument,  and,  in  the  best  sense  of 
the  word,  a  very  readable  book ; "  —  can  we  really 
believe  that  he  cares  to  attach  any  definite  sense 
to  the  words  of  which  he  is  so  lavish  ?  nay,  that,  if 
he  had  a  habit  of  attaching  sense  to  them,  he  could 
ever  bring  himself  to  so  prodigal  and  wholesale  an 
expenditure  of  them? 

3.  To  a  short-sighted  person,  colors  run  together 
and  intermix,  outlines  disappear,  blues  and  reds  and 
yellows  become  russets  or  browns,  the  lamps  or 
candles  of  an  illumination  spread  into  an  unmeaning 
glare,  or  dissolve  into  a  milky  way.  He  takes  up 
an  eye-glass,  and  the  mist  clears  up;  every  image 
stands  out  distinct,  and  the  rays  of  light  fall  back 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  1 29 

upon  their  centers.  It  is  this  haziness  of  intellectual 
vision  which  is  the  malady  of  all  classes  of  men  by 
nature,  of  those  who  read  and  write  and  compose, 
quite  as  well  as  of  those  who  cannot,  —  of  all  who 
have  not  had  a  really  good  education.  Those  who 
cannot  either  read  or  write  may,  nevertheless,  be 
in  the  number  of  those  who  have  remedied  and  got 
rid  of  it ;  those  who  can,  are  too  often  still  under  its 
power.  It  is  an  acquisition  quite  separate  from  mis- 
cellaneous information,  or  knowledge  of  books. 
This  is  a  large  subject,  which  might  be  pursued  at 
great  length,  and  of  which  here  I  shall  but  attempt 
one  or  two  illustrations.  ( The  Idea  of  a  University, 
PP-  33I-333-) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Here  the  author  not  only  brings  home  to  us  in  a 
few  vivid  touches  the  meaning  of  mental  accuracy, 
but  insists  on  the  view  that  discipline  in  it  is  a 
main  object  of  intellectual  education.  Therefore 
what  two  literary  types  are  exemplified?  Express 
in  language  of  your  own  the  meaning  of  mental  ac- 
curacy as  here  explained.  (The  few  paragraphs  of 
the  extract  serve  to  introduce  forty  pages  of  illus- 
tration, the  object  of  which  is  to  bring  out  sharply 
the  contrast  between  mental  accuracy  and  mental 
inaccuracy.  Conceived  in  a  spirit  of  humor  and 
phrased  in  Newman's  happiest  and  most  convincing 
manner,  this  part  of  the  Idea  of  a  University  is 
unrivaled  as  a  contribution  to  the  literature  of  edu- 


I3O  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

cation.    Every  student,  whether  of  literature  or  of 
other  subjects,  should  read  and  reread  it.) 

Note  the  author's  use  of  contrast  ("accuracy  of 
mind"  and  "haziness  of  intellectual  vision");  of 
illustration ;  of  analogy.  Discuss  the  value  of  con- 
trast as  an  aid  to  exposition.  Would  you  charac- 
terize the  present  bit  of  exposition  as  "  popular  "  ? 
If  so,  what  makes  it  "  popular  "  ?  Note  the  rhythm 
of  the  first  half  of  §  I.  Try  to  reduce  the  rhyth- 
mical effect  to  its  causes.  What  bearing  has  the 
rhythm  on  the  exposition  as  such? 


XVIII.     ST.  PHILIP  NERI 

i.  SUCH  at  least  is  the  lesson  which  I  am  taught 
by  all  the  thought  which  I  have  been  able  to  bestow 
upon  the  subject;  such  is  the  lesson  which  I  have 
gained  from  the  history  of  my  own  special  Father 
and  Patron,  St.  Philip  Neri.*  He  lived  in  an  age 
as  traitorous  to  the  interests  of  Catholicism  as  any 
that  preceded  it,  or  can  follow  it.  He  lived  at  a  time 
when  pride  mounted  high,  and  the  senses  held  rule ; 
a  time  when  kings  and  nobles  never  had  more  of 
state  and  homage,  and  never  less  of  personal  re- 
sponsibility and  peril;  when  medieval  winter  was 
receding,  and  the  summer  sun  of  civilization  was 
bringing  into  leaf  and  flower  a  thousand  forms  of 
luxurious  enjoyment ;  when  a  new  world  of  thought 
and  beauty  had  opened  upon  the  human  mind,  in 
the  discovery  of  the  treasures  of  classic  literature 
and  art.  He  saw  the  great  and  the  gifted,  dazzled 
by  the  Enchantress,  and  drinking  in  the  magic  of 
her  song ;  he  saw  the  high  and  the  wise,  the  student 
and  the  artist,  painting,  and  poetry,  and  sculpture, 
and  music,  and  architecture,  drawn  within  her 
range,  and  circling  round  the  abyss :  he  saw  heathen 
forms  mounting  thence,  and  forming  in  the  thick 
air :  —  all  this  he  saw,  and  he  perceived  that  the  mis- 


132  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

chief  was  to  be  met,  not  with  argument,  not  with 
science,  not  with  protests  and  warnings,  not  by  the 
recluse  or  the  preacher,  but  by  means  of  the  great 
counter-fascination  of  purity  and  truth.  He  was 
raised  up  to  do  a  work  almost  peculiar  in  the 
Church,  —  not  to  be  a  Jerome  Savonarola,*  though 
Philip  had  a  true  devotion  towards  him  and  a  ten- 
der memory  of  his  Florentine  house;  not  to  be  a 
St.  Charles,*  though  in  his  beaming  countenance 
Philip  had  recognized  the  aureole  of  a  saint ;  not  to 
be  a  St.  Ignatius,  wrestling  with  the  foe,  though 
Philip  was  termed  the  Society's  bell  of  call,  so  many 
subjects  did  he  send  to  it;  not  to  be  a  St.  Francis 
Xavier,*  though  Philip  had  longed  to  shed  his  blood 
for  Christ  in  India  with  him ;  not  to  be  a  St.  Caje- 
tan,*  or  hunter  of  souls,  for  Philip  preferred,  as  he 
expressed  it,  tranquilly  to  cast  in  his  net  to  gain 
them ;  he  preferred  to  yield  to  the  stream,  and  direct 
the  current,  which  he  could  not  stop,  of  science,  liter- 
ature, art,  and  fashion,  and  to  sweeten  and  to  sanc- 
tify what  God  had  made  very  good  and  man  had 
spoilt. 

2.  And  so  he  contemplated  as  the  idea  of  his 
mission,  not  the  propagation  of  the  faith,  nor  the 
exposition  of  doctrine,  nor  the  catechetical  schools ; 
whatever  was  exact  and  systematic  pleased  him  not ; 
he  put  from  him  monastic  rule  and  authoritative 
speech,  as  David*  refused  the  armor  of  his  king. 
No;  he  would  be  but  an  ordinary  individual  priest 
as  other :  and  his  weapons  should  be  but  unaffected 


ST.    PHILIP    NERI  133 

humility  and  unpretending  love.  All  he  did  was 
to  be  done  by  the  light,  and  fervor,  and  convincing 
eloquence  of  his  personal  character  and  his  easy 
conversation.  He  came  to  the  Eternal  City  and  he 
sat  himself  down  there,  and  his  home  and  his  family 
gradually  grew  up  around  him,  by  the  spontaneous 
accession  of  materials  from  without.  He  did  not 
so  much  seek  his  own  as  draw  them  to  him.  He 
sat  in  his  small  room,  and  they  in  their  gay  worldly 
dresses,  the  rich  and  the  wellborn,  as  well  as  the. 
simple  and  the  illiterate,  crowded  into  it.  In  the 
mid-heats  of  summer,  in  the  frosts  of  winter,  still 
was  he  in  that  low  and  narrow  cell  at  San  Giro- 
lamo,  reading  the  hearts  of  those  who  came  to  him, 
and  curing  their  souls'  maladies  by  the  very  touch 
of  his  hand.  It  was  a  vision  of  the  Magi  worshiping 
the  infant  Saviour,  so  pure  and  innocent,  so  sweet 
and  beautiful  was  he;  and  so  loyal  and  so  dear  to 
the  gracious  Virgin  Mother.  And  they  who  came 
remained  gazing  and  listening,  till  at  length,  first 
one  and  then  another  threw  off  their  bravery,  and 
took  his  poor  cassock  and  girdle  instead :  or,  if  they 
kept  it,  it  was  to  put  haircloth  under  it,  or  to  take 
on  them  a  rule  of  life,  while  to  the  world  they  looked 
as  before. 

3.  In  the  words  of  his  biographer,  "  he  was  all 
things  to  all  men.  He  suited  himself  to  noble  and 
ignoble,  young  and  old,  subjects  and  prelates, 
learned  and  ignorant ;  and  received  those  who  were 
strangers  to  him  with  singular  benignity,  and  em- 


134  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

braced  them  with  as  much  love  and  charity  as  if  he 
had  been  a  long  while  expecting  them.  When  he 
was  called  upon  to  be  merry  he  was  so ;  if  there  was 
a  demand  upon  his  sympathy  he  was  equally  ready. 
He  gave  the  same  welcome  to  all :  caressing  the 
poor  equally  with  the  rich,  and  wearying  himself  to 
assist  all  to  the  utmost  limits  of  his  power.  In  con- 
sequence of  his  being  so  accessible  and  willing  to 
receive  all  comers,  many  went  to  him  every  day,  and 
^ome  continued  for  the  space  of  thirty,  nay  forty 
years,  to  visit  him  very  often  both  morning  and 
evening,  so  that  his  room  went  by  the  agreeable 
nickname  of  the  Home  of  Christian  mirth.  Nay, 
people  came  to  him,  not  only  from  all  parts  of  Italy, 
but  from  France,  Spain,  Germany,  and  all  Christen- 
dom :  and  even  the  infidels  and  Jews,  who  had  ever 
any  communication  with  him,  revered  him  as  a 
holy  man."  The  first  families  of  Rome,  the  Mas- 
simi,  the  Aldobrandini,  the  Colonnas,  the  Altieri, 
the  Vitelleschi,  were  his  friends  and  his  penitents. 
Nobles*  of  Poland,  Grandees*  of  Spain,  Knights* 
of  Malta,  could  not  leave  Rome  without  coming  to 
him.  Cardinals,  Archbishops,  and  Bishops  were 
his  intimates ;  Federigo  Borromeo*  haunted  his 
room  and  got  the  name  of  "  Father  Philip's  soul." 
The  Cardinal-Archbishops  of  Verona  and  Bologna 
wrote  books  in  his  honor.  Pope  Pius  the  Fourth* 
died  in  his  arms.  Lawyers,  painters,  musicians, 
physicians,  it  was  the  same  too  with  them.  Baron- 
ius,*  Zazzara,*  and  Ricci,*  left  the  law  at  his  bid- 


ST.    PHILIP   NERI  135 

ding,  and  joined  his  congregation,  to  do  its  work, 
to  write  the  annals  of  the  Church,  and  to  die  in  the 
odor  of  sanctity.  Palestrina*  had  Father  Philip's 
ministrations  in  his  last  moments.  Animuccia*  hung 
about  him  during  life,  sent  him  a  message  after 
death,  and  was  conducted  by  him  through  Purga- 
tory to  Heaven.  And  who  was  he,  I  say,  all  the 
while,  but  an  humble  priest,  a  stranger  in  Rome, 
with  no  distinction  of  family  or  letters,  no  claim  of 
station  or  of  office,  great  simply  in  the  attraction 
with  which  a  Divine  Power  had  gifted  him?  and 
yet  thus  humble,  thus  unennobled,  thus  empty- 
handed,  he  has  achieved  the  glorious  title  of  Apostle 
of  Rome. 

4.  Well  were  it  for  his  clients  and  children, 
Gentlemen,  if  they  could  promise  themselves  the 
very  shadow  of  his  special  power,  or  could  hope  to 
do  a  miserable  fraction  of  the  sort  of  work  in  which 
he  was  preeminently  skilled.  But  so  far  at  least 
they  may  attempt,  —  to  take  his  position,  and  to 
use  his  method,  and  to  cultivate  the  arts  of  which 
he  was  so  bright  a  pattern.  For  me,  if  it  be  God's 
blessed  will  that  in  the  years  now  coming  I  am  to 
have  a  share  in  the  great  undertaking,  which  has 
been  the  occasion  and  the  subject  of  these  Dis- 
courses, so  far  I  can  say  for  certain  that,  whether 
or  not  I  can  do  anything  at  all  in  St.  Philip's  way, 
at  least  I  can  do  nothing  in  any  other.  Neither  by 
my  habits  of  life,  nor  by  vigor  of  age,  am  I  fitted 
for1  the  task  of  authority,  or  of  rule,  or  of  initiation. 


136  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

I  do  but  aspire,  if  strength  is  given  me,  to  be  your 
minister  in  a  work  which  must  employ  younger 
minds  and  stronger  lives  than  mine.  I  am  but  fit 
to  bear  my  witness,  to  proffer  my  suggestions,  to 
express  my  sentiments,  as  has  in  fact  been  my  occu- 
pation in  these  discussions:  to  throw  such  light 
upon  general  questions,  upon  the  choice  of  objects, 
upon  the  import  of  principles,  upon  the  tendency  of 
measures,  as  past  reflection  and  experience  enable 
me  to  contribute.  I  shall  have  to  make  appeals  to 
your  consideration,  your  friendliness,  your  confi- 
dence, of  which  I  have  had  so  many  instances,  on 
which  I  so  tranquilly  repose ;  and  after  all,  neither 
you  nor  I  must  ever  be  surprised,  should  it  so  hap- 
pen that  the  Hand  of  Him,  with  whom  are  the 
springs  of  life  and  death,  weighs  heavy  on  me,  and 
makes  me  unequal  to  anticipations  in  which  you 
have  been  too  kind  and  to  hopes  in  which  I  may 
have  been  too  sanguine.  (The  Idea  of  a  Uni- 
versity, pp.  234-238.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

This  sketch  of  St.  Philip's  character  is  immedi- 
ately preceded  by  the  following  sentence :  "  But, 
anyhow,  her  [i.e.,  the  Church's]  principle  is  one 
and  the  same  throughout :  not  to  prohibit  truth  of 
any  kind,  but  to  see  that  no  doctrines  pass  under  the 
name  of  Truth  but  those  which  claim  it  rightfully." 
The  sketch,  therefore,  is  not  simply  objective  in 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  137 

treatment;  it  embodies  and  lays  emphasis  on  what 
Newman  conceives  to  be  the  saint's  special  mission 
in  the  Church.  In  other  words,  it  contains  expla- 
nation or  interpretation,  and  therefore  passes  be- 
yond mere  description  into  exposition. 

The  author  tells  us  that  he  has  gained  a  certain 
lesson  from  the  history  of  St.  Philip  Neri.  What 
is  it  ?  Do  you  find  it  expressed  in  §  I  ?  Do  the 
facts  embodied  in  the  sketch  make  the  lesson  clear? 
Note  in  §  I  the  brilliant  historical  background  fol- 
lowed by  an  elaborate  obverse  statement,  one  of 
Newman's  favorite  methods  of  amplification.  Name 
the  figures  occurring  in  §  i.  What  is  the  topic  of 
§  2  and  its  method  of  development?  What  signifi- 
cance do  you  see  in  the  array  of  proper  names  in 
§3?  Discuss  the  meaning  and  advantages  of  the 
concrete  treatment  of  a  subject.  Characterize  the 
style  of  the  passage.  Why  may  we  class  the  pas- 
sage as  exposition  rather  than  description  ? 


XIX.     THE  MASS 

"  THESE  are  such  difficult  questions,"  answered 
Willis ;  "  must  I  speak  ?  Such  difficult  questions," 
he  continued,  rising  into  a  more  animated  manner, 
and  kindling  as  he  went  on ;  "I  mean,  people  view 
them  so  differently:  it  is  so  difficult  to  convey  to 
one  person  the  idea  of  another.  The  idea  of  wor- 
ship is  different  in  the  Catholic  Church  from  the 
idea  of  it  in  your  Church;  for,  in  truth,  the  reli- 
gions are  different.  Don't  deceive  yourself,  my  dear 
Bateman,"  he  said  tenderly.  "  It  is  not  that  ours 
is  your  religion  carried  a  little  farther,  —  a  little 
too  far,  as  you  would  say.  No,  they  differ  in  kind, 
not  in  degree;  ours  is  one  religion,  yours  another. 
And  when  the  time  comes,  and  come  it  will,  for 
you,  alien  as  you  are  now,  to  submit  yourself  to 
the  gracious  yoke  of  Christ,  then,  my  dearest  Bate- 
man, it  will  be  faith  which  will  enable  you  to  bear 
the  ways  and  usages  of  Catholics,  which  else  might 
perhaps  startle  you.  Else,  the  habit  of  years,  the 
associations  in  your  mind  of  a  certain  outward  be- 
havior with  real  inward  acts  of  devotion,  might 
embarrass  you,  when  you  had  to  conform  yourself 
to  other  habits,  and  to  create  for  yourself  other 
associations.  But  this  faith,  of  which  I  speak,  the 
138 


THE   MASS  139 

great  gift  of  God,  will  enable  you  in  that  day  to 
overcome  yourself,  and  to  submit,  as  your  judgment, 
your  will,  your  reason,  your  affections,  so  your 
tastes  and  likings,  to  the  rule  and  usage  of  the 
Church.  Ah,  that  faith  should  be  necessary  in  such 
a  matter,  and  that  what  is  so  natural  and  becoming 
under  the  circumstances,  should  have  need  of  an 
explanation !  I  declare,  to  me,"  he  said,  and  he 
clasped  his  hands  on  his  knees,  and  looked  forward 
as  if  soliloquizing,  —  "  to  me  nothing  is  so  consol- 
ing, so  piercing,  so  thrilling,  so  overcoming,  as  the 
Mass,  said  as  it  is  among  us.  I  could  attend  Masses 
forever,  and  not  be  tired.  It  is  not  a  mere  form  of 
words,  —  it  is  a  great  action,  the  greatest  action 
that  can  be  on  earth.  It  is,  not  the  invocation 
merely,  but,  if  I  dare  use  the  word,  the  evocation  of 
the  Eternal.  He  becomes  present  on  the  altar  in 
flesh  and  blood,  before  whom  angels  bow  and  devils 
tremble.  This  is  that  awful  event  which  is  the 
scope,  and  is  the  interpretation,  of  every  part  of  the 
solemnity.  Words  are  necessary,  but  as  means,  not 
as  ends ;  they  are  not  mere  addresses  to  the  throne 
of  grace,  they  are  instruments  of  what  is  far  higher, 
of  consecration,  of  sacrifice.  They  hurry  on  as  if 
impatient  to  fulfill  their  mission.  Quickly  they  go, 
the  whole  is  quick ;  for  they  are  all  parts  of  one  in- 
tegral action.  Quickly  they  go ;  for  they  are  awful 
words  of  sacrifice,  they  are  a  work  too  great  to  delay 
upon ;  as  it  was  said  in  the  beginning,  *  What*  thou 
doest,  do  quickly.'  Quickly  they  pass ;  for  the  Lord 


I4O  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

Jesus  goes  with  them,  as  He  passed  along  the  lake 
in  the  days  of  His  flesh,  quickly  calling  first  one 
and  then  another.  Quickly  they  pass;  because  as 
the  lightning*  which  shineth  from  one  part  of  the 
heaven  unto  the  other,  so  is  the  coming  of  the  Son 
of  Man.  Quickly  they  pass;  for  they  are  as  the 
words*  of  Moses,  when  the  Lord  came  down  in  the 
cloud,  calling  on  the  Name  of  the  Lord  as  He  passed 
by,  '  The  Lord,  the  Lord  God,  merciful  and  gra- 
cious, long-suffering,  and  abundant  in  goodness  and 
truth/  And  as  Moses  on  the  mountain,  so  we  too 
'  make  haste  and  bow  our  heads  to  the  earth,  and 
adore/  So  we,  all  around,  each  in  his  place,  look 
out  for  the  great  Advent,  '  waiting*  for  the  moving 
of  the  water/  Each  in  his  place,  with  his  own  heart, 
with  his  own  wants,  with  his  own  thoughts,  with  his 
own  intention,  with  his  own  prayers,  separate  but 
concordant,  watching  what  is  going  on,  watching  its 
progress,  uniting  in  its  consummation ;  —  not  pain- 
fully and  hopelessly  following  a  hard  form  of  prayer 
from  beginning  to  end,  but,  like  a  concert  of  musi- 
cal instruments,  each  different,  but  concurring  in 
a  sweet  harmony,  we  take  our  part  with  God's 
priest,  supporting  him,  yet  guided  by  him.  There 
are  little  children  there,  and  old  men,  and  simple 
laborers,  and  students  in  seminaries,  priests  prepar- 
ing for  Mass,  priests  making  their  thanksgiving; 
there  are  innocent  maidens,  and  there  are  penitent 
sinners;  but  out  of  these  many  minds  rises  one 
eucharistic  hymn,  and  the  great  Action  is  the  meas- 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  14! 

ure  and  scope  of  it.  And  oh,  my  dear  Bateman," 
he  added,  turning  to  him,  "  you  ask  me  whether  this 
is  not  a  formal,  unreasonable  service  —  it  is  wonder- 
ful !  "  he  cried,  rising  up,  "  quite  wonderful.  When 
will  these  dear,  good  people  be  enlightened?  O* 
Sapientia,  fortiter  suaviterque  disponens  omnia,  0 
Adonai,  0  Clavis  David  et  Exspectatio  gentium, 
veni  ad  salvandum  nos,  Domine  Deus  noster."  (Loss 
and  Gain,  pt.  ii,  chap,  xix.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Is  the  exposition  clear  ?  effective  for  the  speaker's 
purpose?  What  is  his  method  of  exposition?  The 
quick  motion  of  the  words  and  action  of  the  Mass 
is  particularly  emphasized.  In  this  connection,  do 
you  mark  any  symbolic,  suggestive  effect  in  the 
speaker's  language?  Note  the  position  of 
"  quickly  "  and  determine  the  effect  of  such  posi- 
tion. Characterize  the  style  of  the  passage.  Is  it 
a  style  one  would  expect  to  find  in  dialogue  ?  How 
do  you  justify  its  exceptional  tone  for  dialogue? 


XX.     THE   LION   AND    THE   PAINTER 

1.  Now  then  for  my  fable  which  is  not  the  worse 
because  it  is  old.    The  Man  once  invited  the  Lion 
to  be  his  guest,  and  received  him  with  princely  hos- 
pitality.    The  Lion  had  the  run  of  a  magnificent 
palace,  in  which  there  were  a  vast  many  things  to 
admire.     There  were  large  saloons  and  long  cor- 
ridors, richly  furnished  and  decorated,  and  filled 
with  a  profusion  of  fine  specimens  of  sculpture  and 
painting,  the  works  of  the  first  masters  in  either  art. 
The  subjects  represented  were  various;    but  the 
most  prominent  of  them  had  an  especial  interest  for 
the  noble  animal  who  stalked  by  them.    It  was  that 
of  the  Lion  himself ;  and  as  the  owner  of  the  man- 
sion led  him  from  one  apartment  to  another,  he  did 
not  fail  to  direct  his  attention  to  the  indirect  hom- 
age which  these  various  groups  and  tableaux  paid 
to  the  importance  of  the  lion  tribe. 

2.  There  was,  however,  one  remarkable  feature 
in  all  of  them,  to  which  the  host,  silent  as  he  was 
from  politeness,  seemed  not  at  all  insensible;   that 
diverse  as  were  these  representations,  in  one  point 
they   all   agreed,   that  the   man   was   always   vic- 
torious, and  the  lion  was  always  overcome.     The 

143 


THE  LION   AND  THE  PAINTER  143 

man  had  it  all  his  own  way,  and  the  lion  was  but 
a  fool,  and  served  to  make  him  sport.  There 
were  exquisite  works  in  marble,  of  Samson*  rend- 
ing the  lion  like  a  kid,  and  young  David*  taking 
the  lion  by  the  beard  and  choking  him.  There 
was  the  man  who  ran  his  arm  down  the  lion's 
throat,  and  held  him  fast  by  the  tongue;  and 
there  was  that  other,  who  when  carried  off  in 
his  teeth,  contrived  to  pull  a  penknife  from  his 
pocket,  and  lodge  it  in  the  monster's  heart.  Then 
there  was  a  lion  hunt,  or  what  had  been  such,  for 
the  brute  was  rolling  round  in  the  agonies  of  death, 
and  his  conqueror  on  his  bleeding  horse  was  sur- 
veying these  from  a  distance.  There  was  a  gladi- 
ator from  the  Roman  amphitheater  in  mortal 
struggle  with  his  tawny  foe,  and  it  was  plain 
who  was  getting  the  mastery.  There  was  a  lion 
in  a  net;  a  lion  in  a  trap;  four  lions,  yoked 
in  harness,  were  drawing  the  car  of  a  Roman 
emperor;  and  elsewhere  stood  Hercules,  clad  in 
the  lion's  skin,  and  with  the  club  which  demolished 
him. 

3.  Nor  was  this  all:  the  lion  was  not  only  tri- 
umphed over,  mocked,  spurned ;  but  he  was  tortured 
into  extravagant  forms,  as  if  he  were  not  only  the 
slave  and  creature,  but  the  very  creation  of  man. 
He  became  an  artistic  decoration,  and  an  heraldic 
emblazonment.  The  feet  of  alabaster  tables  fell 
away  into  lions'  paws.  Lions'  faces  grinned  on  each 
side  of  the  shining  mantelpiece ;  and  lions'  mouths 


144  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

held  tight  the  handles  of  the  doors.  There  were 
sphinxes  too,  half  lion  half  woman;  there  were 
lions  rampant  holding  flags,  lions  couchant,  lions 
passant,  lions  regardant ;  lions  and  unicorns ;  there 
were  lions  white,  black  and  red :  in  short,  there  was 
no  misconception  or  excess  of  indignity  which  was 
thought  too  great  for  the  lord  of  the  forest  and  the 
king  of  brutes.  After  he  had  gone  over  the  man- 
sion, his  entertainer  asked  him  what  he  thought  of 
the  splendors  it  contained ;  and  he  in  reply  did  full 
justice  to  the  riches  of  its  owner  and  the  skill  of 
its  decorators,  but  he  added,  "  Lions  would  have 
fared  better,  had  lions  been  the  artists."  (The 
Present  Position  of  Catholics  in  England,  pp.  3,  4.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

A  fable,  as  in  the  present  instance,  generally  takes 
the  form  of  narrative.  Why,  then,  may  we  class 
the  present  selection  as  exposition?  To  determine 
the  point  of  the  fable,  i.e.,  the  truth  or  fact  which 
the  writer  would  bring  home  through  its  medium, 
read  chapter  i  of  The  Present  Position  of  Catholics 
in  England.  Study  the  means  employed  to  make 
the  fable  tell  as  narrative.  Is  suspense  well  man- 
aged? climax?  What  is  the  topic  of  §  2?  the 
method  of  development?  Study  the  whole  passage 
as  an  example  of  sustained  concrete  phrasing. 
Which  of  the  two  types,  description  or  narration, 
predominates  in  the  fable? 


QUESTIONS   AND   STUDIES  145 

Newman's  temperament  led  him  to  make  exposition  his 
favorite  literary  type.  All  the  pertinent  devices  of  expo- 
sition are  put  to  use  in  Selections  xm-xx.  Thus,  defini- 
tion (xm,  xrv,  xv,  xvi),  division  (xm),  illustration  (xir, 
xv,  xvn),  contrast  (xiv,  xvu),  particulars(xui,  xvi,  xviii), 
repetition  (xm,  xv,  xvi,  xix),  analogy  (xx). 


D.   ARGUMENTATION 

I.  Definition.  Argumentation  is  a  form  of  dis- 
course in  which  one  mind  aims  to  bring  another 
mind  to  see  and  accept  the  truth  or  falsity  of  a 
proposition. 

The  proper  business  of  argumentation  is  to  con- 
vince. One  may  reason  or  argue  with  himself  for 
merely  speculative  ends,  e.g.,  to  demonstrate  a  math- 
ematical truth.  But  argumentation  as  a  literary 
type  implies  an  action  or  effect  external  to  the  one 
who  argues.  It  aims  so  to  work  upon  another's 
mind  as  to  bring  him  to  see  clearly  a  truth  which 
before  he  was  ignorant  of  or  doubted  or  perhaps 
altogether  denied.  To  do  this  is  to  convince;  and 
conviction,  as  the  Latin  etymology  of  the  term 
points  out,  implies  an  intellectual  conquest. 

The  use  of  argumentation  calls  for  a  proposition. 
We  explain  a  term,  but  we  argue  a  proposition.  To 
argue  a  term  is  a  plain  impossibility.  We  must 
first  affirm  or  deny  something  about  a  term  before 
we  are  in  a  position  to  argue  about  it.  The  term 
"  science "  offers  material  for  endless  exposition, 
but  we  provide  no  starting  point  for  an  argument 
147 


148  PROSE  TYPES  IN    NEWMAN 

until  we  assert  that  science  is  useful  or  dangerous 
or  the  mainstay  of  progress  or  the  enemy  of  poetry 
or  some  other  of  the  thousand  things  that  can, 
rightly  or  wrongly,  be  said  about  it. 

2.  Methods.    There  are  recognized  methods  or 
types  of  argument,  all  of  which  it  belongs  to  a 
manual  of  logic  to  explain.     (Cf.  also  Coppens: 
Introduction  to  Oratorical  Composition,  pp.  144  et 
seq.)     Only  a  few  headings  are  here  set  down. 

(a)  Induction  goes  from  particulars  to  generals. 
It  starts  with  a  group  of  particular  facts  and  ends 
with  a  general  truth  or  law. 

Deduction  goes  from  generals  to  particulars.  It 
issues  in  a  truth  narrower,  more  particularized  than 
the  one  with  which  it  starts. 

(6)  An  a  priori  argument  goes  forward  to  a  con- 
clusion later  in  the  real  order  than  the  premises.  An 
a  posteriori  argument  reasons  back  from  experience 
as  a  basis  to  a  truth  prior  to  experience. 

(c)  The  syllogism,  enthymeme,  dilemma,  sorites, 
and  argumentum  ad  hominem  are  among  the  more 
common  methods  of  logical  attack.     (Cf.  Coppens, 
ib.,  pp.  144  et  seq.) 

(d)  Refutation  (called  also  indirect  or  negative 
argumentation)  is  argumentation  employed  in  show- 
ing a  proposition  to  be  false. 

3.  Aids.    Among  the  rhetorical  aids  to  effective 
argumentation  four  may  be  noted : 

(a)  A  Clear-Cut  Proposition.  It  is  vital  in  ar- 
gument that  no  mistake  be  made  about  the  point  at 


ARGUMENTATION  149 

issue.  One  must  see  clearly  at  the  outset  what  he 
has  to  prove  or  wishes  to  prove.  Have,  therefore, 
a  definite,  unmistakable  proposition  before  you  and 
stick  to  it.  Newman's  advice  on  sermon-writing  is 
applicable  to  argumentation  in  all  its  forms.  "  Nay, 
I  would  go  to  the  length  of  recommending  a 
preacher  to  place  a  distinct  categorical  proposition 
before  him,  such  as  he  can  write  down  in  a  form 
of  words,  and  to  guide  and  limit  his  preparation 
by  it,  and  to  aim  in  all  he  says  to  bring  it  out  and 
nothing  else."  (Idea  of  a  University,  p.  412.) 

(b)  A  Division  of  Material.     The  formal  an- 
nouncement of  the  heads  of  discussion,  with  its 
supposed  note  of  pedantry  and  awkward  self -con- 
sciousness, has  passed  out  of  vogue.    However,  one 
may  reasonably  question  the  expediency  of  fore- 
going a  rhetorical  device  which  great  masters  of 
exposition  and  argument  like  Burke  and  Newman 
knew  how  to  use  with  telling  effect.    If  an  explicit 
division  is  not  embodied  in  the  argument,  one  must 
have  at  least  before  his  mind's  eye  an  orderly  and 
consistent  plan  of  the  material  he  is  to  use. 

(c)  Clear  Transitions.     Nothing  bespeaks  skill 
in  argumentation  more  than  ease  in  passing  from 
one  topic  to  another,  without  causing  confusion  in 
the  mind  of  hearer  or  reader,  who  must  never  be 
at  a  loss  to  know  in  what  direction  the  discussion 
moves.    For  every  shift  in  the  course  of  the  argu- 
ment let  there  be  verbal  sign-posts  to  point  the  way. 

(d)  Occasional  Summaries.     To  summarize  is 


I5O  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

to  clinch  the  argument.  The  virtue  of  a  summary 
or  recapitulation  lies  in  this,  that  it  presents  the 
argument  in  miniature,  thereby  affording  the  mind 
a  final  opportunity  to  grasp  and  retain  its  essential 
features. 

4.  Style.  Argumentation,  being  an  appeal  to 
the  intellect,  requires  above  everything  else  to  be 
clear. 


XXI.     THEOLOGY  A  BRANCH  OF 
KNOWLEDGE 

1.  THERE  were  two  questions,  to  which  I  drew 
your  attention,  Gentlemen,  in  the  beginning  of  my 
first  Discourse,  as  being  of  especial  importance  and 
interest  at  this  time:   first,  whether  it  is  consistent 
with  the  idea  of  University  teaching  to  exclude 
Theology  from  a  place  among  the  sciences  which  it 
embraces;   next,  whether  it  is  consistent  with  that 
idea  to  make  the  useful  arts  and  sciences  its  direct 
and  principal  concern,  to  the  neglect  of  those  liberal 
studies  and  exercises  of  mind,  in  which  it  has  here- 
tofore been  considered  mainly  to  consist.     These 
are  the  questions  which  will  form  the  subject  of 
what  I  have  to  lay  before  you,  and  I  shall  now  enter 
upon  the  former  of  the  two. 

2.  It  is  the  fashion  just  now,  as  you  very  well 
know,  to  erect  so-called  Universities,  without  mak- 
ing any  provision  in  them  at  all  for  Theological 
chairs.    Institutions  of  this  kind  exist  both  here  and 
in  England.     Such  a  procedure,  though  defended 
by  writers  of  the  generation  just  passed  with  much 
plausible  argument  and  not  a  little  wit,  seems  to 
me  an  intellectual  absurdity;    and  my  reason  for 
saying  so  runs,  with  whatever  abruptness,  into  the 


152  PROSE    TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

form  of  a  syllogism :  —  A  University,  I  should  lay 
down,  by  its  very  name  professes  to  teach  universal 
knowledge :  Theology  is  surely  a  branch  of  knowl- 
edge: how,  then,  is  it  possible  for  it  to  profess  all 
branches  of  knowledge  and  yet  to  exclude  from  the 
subjects  of  its  teaching  one  which,  to  say  the  least, 
is  as  important  and  as  large  as  any  of  them  ?  I  do 
not  see  that  either  premise  of  this  argument  is  open 
to  exception. 

3.  As  to  the  range  of  University  teaching,  cer- 
tainly the  very  name  of  University  is  inconsistent 
with  restrictions  of  any  kind.  Whatever  was  the 
original  reason  of  the  adoption  of  that  term,  which 
is  unknown,1  I  am  only  putting  on  it  its  popular, 
its  recognized  sense,  when  I  say  that  a  University 
should  teach  universal  knowledge.  That  there  is 
a  real  necessity  for  this  universal  teaching  in  the 
highest  schools  of  intellect,  I  will  show  by  and  by ; 
here  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  such  universality  is 
considered  by  writers  on  the  subject  to  be  the  very 
characteristic  of  a  University,  as  contrasted  with 
other  seats  of  learning.  Thus  Johnson,*  in  his  Dic- 
tionary, defines  it  to  be  "  a  school  where  all  arts  and 
faculties  are  taught ; "  and  Mosheim,*  writing  as 
an  historian,  says  that,  before  the  rise  of  the  Uni- 
versity* of  Paris,  —  for  instance,  at  Padua,  or  Sala- 
manca, or  Cologne,  —  "  the  whole  circle  of  sciences 
then  known  was  not  taught ;  "  but  that  the  school 
of .  Paris,  "  which  exceeded  all  others  in  various 
1  In  Roman  law  it  means  a  corporation. 


THEOLOGY   A  BRANCH   OF   KNOWLEDGE         153 

respects,  as  well  as  in  the  number  of  teachers  and 
students,  was  the  first  to  embrace  all  the  arts  and 
sciences,  and  therefore  first  became  a  University." 

4.  If,  with  other  authors,  we  consider  the  word 
to  be  derived  from  the  invitation  which  is  held  out 
by  a  University  to  students  of  every  kind,  the  result 
is  the  same;   for,  if  certain  branches  of  knowledge 
were  excluded,  those  students  of  course  would  be 
excluded  also,  who  desired  to  pursue  them. 

5.  Is  it,  then,  logically  consistent  in  a  seat  of 
learning  to  call  itself  a  University,  and  to  exclude 
Theology  from  the  number  of  its  studies?     And 
again,  is  it  wonderful  that  Catholics,  even  in  the 
view   of   reason,   putting   aside   faith   or   religious 
duty,  should  be  dissatisfied  with  existing  institu- 
tions, which  profess  to  be  Universities,  and  refuse 
to  teach  Theology;   and  that  they  should  in  conse- 
quence desire  to  possess  seats  of  learning,  which 
are,  not  only  more  Christian,  but  more  philosophi- 
cal in  their  construction,  and  larger  and  deeper  in 
their  provisions  ? 

6.  But  this,  of  course,  is  to  assume  that  The- 
ology is  a  science,  and  an  important  one:  so  I  will 
throw  my  argument  into  a  more  exact  form.    I  say, 
then,  that  if  a  University  be,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  a  place  of  instruction,  where  universal  knowl- 
edge is  professed,  and  if  in  a  certain  University,  so 
called,  the  subject  of  Religion  is  excluded,  one  of 
two  conclusions  is  inevitable,  —  either,  on  the  one 
hand,  that  the  province  of  Religion  is  very  barren 


154  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

of  real  knowledge,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  that  in 
such  University  one  special  and  important  branch 
of  knowledge  is  omitted.  I  say,  the  advocate  of 
such  an  institution  must  say  this,  or  he  must  say 
that;  he  must  own  either  that  little  or  nothing  is 
known  about  the  Supreme  Being,  or  that  his  seat 
of  learning  calls  itself  what  it  is  not.  This  is  the 
thesis  which  I  lay  down,  and  on  which  I  shall  in- 
sist as  the  subject  of  this  Discourse.  I  repeat,  such 
a  compromise  between  religious  parties,  as  is  in- 
volved in  the  establishment  of  a  University  which 
makes  no  religious  profession,  implies  that  those 
parties  severally  consider,  —  not  indeed  that  their 
own  respective  opinions  are  trifles  in  a  moral  and 
practical  point  of  view,  —  of  course  not;  but  cer- 
tainly as  much  as  this,  that  they  are  not  knowledge. 
Did  they  in  their  hearts  believe  that  their  private 
views  of  religion,  whatever  they  are,  were  abso- 
lutely and  objectively  true,  it  is  inconceivable  that 
they  would  so  insult  them  as  to  consent  to  their 
omission  in  an  Institution  which  is  bound,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case  —  from  its  very  idea  and  its 
name  —  to  make  a  profession  of  all  sorts  of  knowl- 
edge whatever. 

7.  I  end  then  as  I  began:  religious  doctrine  is 
knowledge.  This  is  the  important  truth,  little  en- 
tered into  at  this  day,  which  I  wish  that  all  who 
have  honored  me  with  their  presence  here  would 
allow  me  to  beg  them  to  take  away  with  them.  I 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  155 

am  not  catching  at  sharp  arguments,  but.  laying 
down  grave  principles.  Religious  doctrine  is  knowl- 
edge, in  as  full  a  sense  as  Newton's*  doctrine  is 
knowledge.  University  Teaching  without  Theology 
is  simply  unphilosophical.  Theology  has  at  least  as 
good  a  right  to  claim  a  place  there  as  Astronomy. 
(The  Idea  of  a  University,  pp.  19-22,  42.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

This  selection  comprises  the  first  six  paragraphs 
and  the  concluding  paragraph  of  Discourse  II, 
"  Theology  a  Branch  of  Knowledge,"  in  The  Idea 
of  a  University,  part  i. 

Careful,  explicit,  and  reiterated  statement  of  the 
question  at  issue  is  one  of  the  strong  points  in  New- 
man's argumentative  writings.  See  the  instance  in 
§  i.  Note,  too,  the  abruptness  of  the  introduction; 
nothing  could  be  more  direct.  Explain  in  your  own 
words  the  question  Newman  is  to  deal  with  in  Dis- 
course II.  What  is  his  answer  to  the  question? 
Where  does  he  state  his  proposition?  Observe  the 
rhetorical  form  given  to  the  conclusion  of  the 
syllogism  in  §  2.  State  the  conclusion  declaratively. 
What  connection  is  there  between  Newman's  prop- 
osition and  this  syllogism?  Express  the  syllogism 
in  simple  terms.  What  is  the  author's  proof  for  the 
first  premise?  What  value  does  the  author  attach 
to  the  proof  from  etymology  (§  3)  ?  Does  it  really 
prove  that  a  university  should  teach  universal  knowl- 


156  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

edge?  "  But  this  is  to  assume,  etc."  (§6).  Show 
that  §  5  makes  the  assumption  referred  to.  "  I 
end,  then,  as  I  began  "  (§  7).  It  is  a  favorite  device 
of  Newman's  "  to  end  as  he  began,"  i.e.,  to  restate 
in  conclusion  the  proposition  with  which  he  started. 
What  advantage  do  you  see  in  this  device  ?  Discuss 
the  merits  of  §  7  as  an  effective  conclusion  of  the 
argument. 


XXII.    INTELLECTUAL  CULTURE  NOT 
MERE  KNOWLEDGE 

i.  KNOWLEDGE  then  is  the  indispensable  condi- 
tion of  expansion  of  mind,  and  the  instrument  of 
attaining  to  it;  this  cannot  be  denied,  it  is  ever  to 
be  insisted  on ;  I  begin  with  it  as  a  first  principle ; 
however,  the  very  truth  of  it  carries  men  too  far, 
and  confirms  to  them  the  notion  that  it  is  the  whole 
of  the  matter.  A  narrow  mind  is  thought  to  be 
that  which  contains  little  knowledge;  and  an  en- 
larged mind,  that  which  holds  a  great  deal;  and 
what  seems  to  put  the  matter  beyond  dispute  is, 
the  fact  of  the  great  number  of  studies  which  are 
pursued  in  a  University,  by  its  very  profession. 
Lectures  are  given  on  every  kind  of  subject;  ex- 
aminations are  held;  prizes  awarded.  There  are 
moral,  metaphysical,  physical  Professors;  Profes- 
sors of  languages,  of  history,  of  mathematics,  of 
experimental  science.  Lists  of  questions  are  pub- 
lished, wonderful  for  their  range  and  depth,  variety 
and  difficulty;  treatises  are  written,  which  carry 
upon  their  very  face  the  evidence  of  extensive  read- 
ing or  multifarious  information ;  what  then  is  want- 
ing for  mental  culture  to  a  person  of  large  reading 
and  scientific  attainments?  What  is  grasp  of  mind 
157 


158  PROSE  TYPES  IN   NEWMAN 

but  acquirement?  where  shall  philosophical  repose 
be  found,  but  in  the  consciousness  and  enjoyment 
of  large  intellectual  possessions? 

2.  And  yet  this  notion  is,  I  conceive,  a  mistake, 
and  my  present  business  is  to  show  that  it  is  one, 
and  that  the  end  of  a  Liberal  Education  is  not  mere 
knowledge,  or  knowledge  considered  in  its  matter; 
and  I  shall  best  attain  my  object,  by  actually  setting 
down  some  cases,  which  will  be  generally  granted 
to  be  instances  of  the  process  of  enlightenment  or 
enlargement  of  mind,  and  others  which  are  not,  and 
thus,  by  the  comparison,  you  will  be  able  to  judge 
for  yourselves,  Gentlemen,  whether  Knowledge,  that 
is,  acquirement,  is  after  all  the  real  principle  of  the 
enlargement,  or  whether  that  principle  is  not  rather 
something  beyond  it. 

3.  For  instance,1  let  a  person,  whose  experience 
has  hitherto  been  confined  to  the  more  calm  and  un- 
pretending scenery  of  these  islands,  whether  here  or 
in  England,  go  for  the  first  time  into  parts  where 
physical  nature  puts  on  her  wilder  and  more  awful 
forms,  whether  at  home  or  abroad,  as  into  moun- 
tainous districts;   or  let  one,  who  has  ever  lived  in 
a  quiet  village,  go  for  the  first  time  to  a  great  me- 
tropolis, —  then  I  suppose  he  will  have  a  sensation 
which  perhaps  he  never  had  before.    He  has  a  feel- 

1  The  pages  which  follow  are  taken  almost  verbatim 
from  the  author's  fourteenth  (Oxford)  University  Ser- 
mon, which,  at  the  time  of  writing  this  discourse,  he  did 
not  expect  ever  to  reprint. 


INTELLECTUAL   CULTURE  159 

ing  not  in  addition  or  increase  of  former  feelings, 
but  of  something  different  in  its  nature.  He  will 
perhaps  be  borne  forward,  and  find  for  a  time  that 
he  has  lost  his  bearings.  He  has  made  a  certain 
progress,  and  he  has  a  consciousness  of  mental  en- 
largement ;  he  does  not  stand  where  he  did,  he  has 
a  new  center,  and  a  range  of  thoughts  to  which  he 
was  before  a  stranger. 

4.  Again,  the  view  of  the  heavens  which  the 
telescope  opens  upon  us,  if  allowed  to  fill  and  pos- 
sess the  mind,  may  almost  whirl  it  round  and  make 
it  dizzy.    It  brings  in  a  flood  of  ideas,  and  is  rightly 
called  an  intellectual  enlargement,  whatever  is  meant 
by  the  term. 

5.  And  so  again,  the  sight  of  beasts  of  prey  and 
other  foreign  animals,  their  strangeness,  the  origi- 
nality (if  I  may  use  the  term)  of  their  forms  and 
gestures  and  habits  and  their  variety  and  independ- 
ence of  each  other,  throw  us  out  of  ourselves  into 
another  creation,  and  as  if  under  another  Creator, 
if  I  may  so  express  the  temptation  which  may  come 
on  the  mind.    We  seem  to  have  new  faculties,  or  a 
new  exercise  for  our  faculties,  by  this  addition  to 
our  knowledge;   like  a  prisoner,  who,  having  been 
accustomed  to  wear  manacles  or  fetters,  suddenly 
finds  his  arms  and  legs  free. 

6.  Hence  Physical  Science  generally,  in  all  its 
departments,  as  bringing  before  us  the  exuberant 
riches  and  resources,  yet  the  orderly  course,  of  the 
Universe,  elevates  and  excites  the  student,  and  at 


l6o  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

first,  I  may  say,  almost  takes  away  his  breath,  while 
in  time  it  exercises  a  tranquillizing  influence  upon 
him. 

7.  Again,  the  study  of  history  is  said  to  enlarge 
and  enlighten  the  mind,  and  why?    because,  as  I 
conceive,  it  gives  it  a  power  of  judging  of  passing 
events,  and  of  all  events,  and  a  conscious  superiority 
over  them,  which  before  it  did  not  possess. 

8.  And  in  like  manner,  what  is  called  seeing  the 
world,  entering  into  active  life,  going  into  society, 
traveling,   gaining  acquaintance   with   the  various 
classes  of  the  community,  coming  into  contact  with 
the  principles  and  modes  of  thought  of  various 
parties,  interests,  and  races,  their  views,  aims,  habits 
and  manners,  their  religious  creeds  and  forms  of 
worship,  —  gaining  experience  how  various  yet  how 
alike  men  are,  how  low-minded,  how  bad,  how  op- 
posed, yet  how  confident  in  their  opinions;   all  this 
exerts  a  perceptible  influence  upon  the  mind,  which 
it  is  impossible  to  mistake,  be  it  good  or  be  it  bad, 
and  is  popularly  called  enlargement. 

9.  And  then  again,  the  first  time  the  mind  comes 
across  the  arguments  and  speculations  of  unbeliev- 
ers, and  feels  what  a  novel  light  they  cast  upon 
what  he  has  hitherto  accounted  sacred;    and  still 
more,  if  it  gives  in  to  them  and  embraces  them,  and 
throws  off  as  so  much  prejudice  what  it  has  hitherto 
held,  and,  as  if  waking  from  a  dream,  begins  to 
realize  to  its  imagination  that  there  is  now  no  such 
thing  as  law  and  the  transgression  of  law,  that  sin 


INTELLECTUAL   CULTURE  l6l 

is  a  phantom,  and  punishment  a  bugbear,  that  it  is 
free  to  sin,  free  to  enjoy  the  world  and  the  flesh ; 
and  still  further,  when  it  does  enjoy  them,  and  re- 
flects that  it  may  think  and  hold  just  what  it  will, 
that  "  the  world  is  all  before  it  where  to  choose," 
and  what  system  to  build  up  as  its  own  private  per- 
suasion; when  this  torrent  of  willful  thoughts 
rushes  over  and  inundates  it,  who  will  deny  that  the 
fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  or  what  the  mind 
takes  for  knowledge,  has  made  it  one  of  the  gods, 
with  a  sense  of  expansion  and  elevation,  —  an  in- 
toxication in  reality,  still,  so  far  as  the  subjective 
state  of  the  mind  goes,  an  illumination  ?  Hence  the 
fanaticism  of  individuals  or  nations,  who  suddenly 
cast  off  their  Maker.  Their  eyes  are  opened ;  and, 
like  the  judgment-stricken*  king  in  the  Tragedy, 
they  see  two  suns,  and  a  magic  universe,  out  of 
which  they  look  back  upon  their  former  state  of  faith 
and  innocence  with  a  sort  of  contempt  and  indigna- 
tion, as  if  they  were  then  but  fools,  and  the  dupes 
of  imposture. 

10.  On  the  other  hand,  Religion  has  its  own  en- 
largement, and  an  enlargement,  not  of  tumult,  but 
of  peace.  It  is  often  remarked  of  uneducated  per- 
sons, who  have  hitherto  thought  little  of  the  unseen 
world,  that,  on  their  turning  to  God,  looking  into 
themselves,  regulating  their  hearts,  reforming  their 
conduct,  and  meditating  on  death  and  judgment, 
heaven  and  hell,  they  seem  to  become,  in  point  of 
intellect,  different  beings  from  what  they  were.  Be- 


l62  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

fore,  they  took  things  as  they  came,  and  thought  no 
more  of  one  thing  than  another.  But  now  every 
event  has  a  meaning ;  they  have  their  own  estimate 
of  whatever  happens  to  them;  they  are  mindful  of 
times  and  seasons,  and  compare  the  present  with 
the  past ;  and  the  world,  no  longer  dull,  monoto- 
nous, unprofitable,  and  hopeless,  is  a  various  and 
complicated  drama,  with  parts  and  an  object,  and 
awful  moral. 

ii.  Now  from  these  instances,  to  which  many 
more  might  be  added,  it  is  plain,  first,  that  the  com- 
munication of  knowledge  certainly  is  either  a  con- 
dition or  the  means  of  that  sense  of  enlargement  or 
enlightenment,  of  which  at  this  day  we  hear  so  much 
in  certain  quarters :  this  cannot  be  denied ;  but 
next,  it  is  equally  plain,  that  such  communication  is 
not  the  whole  of  the  process.  The  enlargement  con- 
sists, not  merely  in  the  passive  reception  into  the 
mind  of  a  number  of  ideas  hitherto  unknown  to  it, 
but  in  the  mind's  energetic  and  simultaneous  action 
upon  and  towards  and  among  those  new  ideas,  which 
are  rushing  in  upon  it.  It  is  the  action  of  a  forma- 
tive power,  reducing  to  order  and  meaning  the  mat- 
ter of  our  acquirements;  it  is  a  making  the  objects 
of  our  knowledge  subjectively  our  own,  or,  to  use  a 
familiar  word,  it  is  a  digestion  of  what  we  receive, 
into  the  substance  of  our  previous  state  of  thought ; 
and  without  this  no  enlargement  is  said  to  follow. 
There  is  no  enlargement,  unless  there  be  a  compari- 
son of  ideas  one  with  another,  as  they  come  before 


INTELLECTUAL   CULTURE  163 

the  mind,  and  a  systematizing  of  them.  We  feel  our 
minds  to  be  growing  and  expanding  then,  when  we 
not  only  learn,  but  refer  what  we  learn  to  what  we 
know  already.  It  is  not  the  mere  addition  to  our 
knowledge  that  is  the  illumination;  but  the  loco- 
motion, the  movement  onwards,  of  that  mental 
center,  to  which  both  what  we  know,  and  what  we 
are  learning,  the  accumulating  mass  of  our  acquire- 
ments, gravitates.  And  therefore  a  truly  great  in- 
tellect, and  recognized  to  be  such  by  the  common 
opinion  of  mankind,  such  as  the  intellect  of  Aris- 
totle,* or  of  St.  Thomas,  or  of  Newton,  or  of 
Goethe*  (I  purposely  take  instances  within  and 
without  the  Catholic  pale,  when  I  would  speak  of 
the  intellect  as  such)  is  one  which  takes  a  connected 
view  of  old  and  new,  past  and  present,  far  and  near, 
and  which  has  an  insight  into  the  influence  of  all 
these  one  on  another;  without  which  there  is  no 
whole,  and  no  center.  It  possesses  the  knowledge, 
not  only  of  things,  but  also  of  their  mutual  and  true 
relations ;  knowledge,  not  merely  considered  as 
acquirement,  but  as  philosophy. 

12.  Accordingly,  when  this  analytical,  distribu- 
tive, harmonizing  process  is  away,  the  mind  experi- 
ences no  enlargement,  and  is  not  reckoned  as  en- 
lightened or  comprehensive  whatever  it  may  add  to 
its  knowledge.  For  instance,  a  great  memory,  as  I 
have  already  said,  does  not  make  a  philosopher,  any 
more  than  a  dictionary  can  be  called  a  grammar. 
There  are  men  who  embrace  in  their  minds  a  vast 


164  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

multitude  of  ideas,  but  with  little  sensibility  about 
their  real  relations  towards  each  other.  These  may 
be  antiquarians,  annalists,  naturalists ;  they  may  be 
learned  in  the  law ;  they  may  be  versed  in  statistics ; 
they  are  most  useful  in  their  own  place;  I  should 
shrink  from  speaking  disrespectfully  of  them ;  still, 
there  is  nothing  in  such  attainments  to  guarantee 
the  absence  of  narrowness  of  mind.  If  they  are 
nothing  more  than  well-read  men,  or  men  of  in- 
formation, they  have  not  what  specially  deserves 
the  name  of  culture  of  mind,  or  fulfills  the  type  of 
Liberal  Education. 

13.  In  like  manner,  we  sometimes  fall  in  with 
persons  who  have  seen  much  of  the  world,  and  of 
the  men  who,  in  their  day,  have  played  a  conspicu- 
ous part  in  it,  but  who  generalize  nothing,  and  have 
no  observation,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.    They 
abound  in  information  in  detail,  curious  and  enter- 
taining, about  men  and  things;    and,  having  lived 
under  the  influence  of  no  very  clear  or  settled  prin- 
ciples, religious  or  political,  they  speak  of  everyone 
and  everything,  only  as  so  many  phenomena,  which 
are  complete  in  themselves,  and  lead  to  nothing,  not 
discussing  them,  or  teaching  any  truth,  or  instruct- 
ing the  hearer,  but  simply  talking.     No  one  would 
say  that  these  persons,  well  informed  as  they  are, 
had  attained  to  any  great  culture  of  intellect  or  to 
philosophy. 

14.  The  case  is  the  same  still  more  strikingly 
where  the  persons  in  question  are  beyond  dispute 


INTELLECTUAL    CULTURE  165 

men  of  inferior  powers  and  deficient  education. 
Perhaps  they  have  been  much  in  foreign  countries, 
and  they  receive,  in  a  passive,  otiose,  unfruitful  way, 
the  various  facts  which  are  forced  upon  them  there. 
Seafaring  men,  for  example,  range  from  one  end 
of  the  earth  to  the  other;  but  the  multiplicity  of 
external  objects,  which  they  have  encountered,  forms 
no  symmetrical  and  consistent  picture  upon  their 
imagination;  they  see  the  tapestry  of  human  life, 
as  it  were  on  the  wrong  side,  and  it  tells  no  story. 
They  sleep,  and  they  rise  up,  and  they  find  them- 
selves, now  in  Europe,  now  in  Asia ;  they  see  visions 
of  great  cities  and  wild  regions ;  they  are  in  the 
marts  of  commerce,  or  amid  the  islands  of  the 
South;  they  gaze  on  Pompey's*  Pillar,  or  on  the 
Andes ;  and  nothing  which  meets  them  carries  them 
forward  or  backward,  to  any  idea  beyond  itself. 
Nothing  has  a  drift  or  relation ;  nothing  has  a  his- 
tory or  a  promise.  Everything  stands  by  itself,  and 
comes  and  goes  in  its  turn,  like  the  shifting  scenes 
of  a  show,  which  leave  the  spectator  where  he  was. 
Perhaps  you  are  near  such  a  man  on  a  particular 
occasion,  and  expect  him  to  be  shocked  or  perplexed 
at  something  which  occurs ;  but  one  thing  is  much 
the  same  to  him  as  another,  or,  if  he  is  perplexed, 
it  is  as  not  knowing  what  to  say,  whether  it  is  right 
to  admire,  or  to  ridicule,  or  to  disapprove,  while 
conscious  that  some  expression  of  opinion  is  ex- 
pected from  him ;  for  in  fact  he  has  no  standard  of 
judgment  at  all,  and  no  landmarks  to  guide  him  to 


l66  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

a  conclusion.     Such  is  mere  acquisition,  and,  I  re- 
peat, no  one  would  dream  of  calling  it  philosophy. 

15.  Instances,  such  as  these  confirm,  by  the  con- 
trast, the  conclusion  I  have  already  drawn  from 
those  which  preceded  them.  That  only  is  true  en- 
largement of  mind  which  is  the  power  of  viewing 
many  things  at  once  as  one  whole,  of  referring  them 
severally  to  their  true  place  in  the  universal  system, 
of  understanding  their  respective  values,  and  deter- 
mining their  mutual  dependence.  Thus  is  that  form 
of  Universal  Knowledge,  of  which  I  have  on  a  for- 
mer occasion  spoken,  set  up  in  the  individual  intel- 
lect, and  constitutes  its  perfection.  Possessed  of 
this  real  illumination,  the  mind  never  views  any  part 
of  the  extended  subject-matter  of  Knowledge  with- 
out recollecting  that  it  is  but  a  part,  or  without  the 
associations  which  spring  from  this  recollection.  It 
makes  everything  in  some  sort  lead  to  everything 
else ;  it  would  communicate  the  image  of  the  whole 
to  every  separate  portion,  till  that  whole  becomes  in 
imagination  like  a  spirit,  everywhere  pervading  and 
penetrating  its  component  parts,  and  giving  them 
one  definite  meaning.  Just  as  our  bodily  organs, 
when  mentioned,  recall  their  function  in  the  body, 
as  the  word  "  creation  "  suggests  the  Creator,  and 
"  subjects  "  a  sovereign,  so,  in  the  mind  of  the  Phi- 
losopher, as  we  are  abstractedly  conceiving  of  him, 
the  elements  of  the  physical  and  moral  world,  sci- 
ences, arts,  pursuits,  ranks,  offices,  events,  opinions, 
individualities,  are  all  viewed  as  one,  with  corre- 


INTELLECTUAL   CULTURE  167 

lative  functions,  and  as  gradually  by  successive  com- 
binations converging,  one  and  all,  to  the  true  center. 
,16.  To  have  even  a  portion  of  this  illuminative 
reason  and  true  philosophy  is  the  highest  state  to 
which  nature  can  aspire,  in  the  way  of  intellect; 
it  puts  the  mind  above  the  influences  of  chance  and 
necessity,  above  anxiety,  suspense,  unsettlement, 
and  superstition,  which  is  the  lot  of  the  many. 
Men,  whose  minds  are  possessed  with  some  one 
object,  take  exaggerated  views  of  its  importance,  are 
feverish  in  the  pursuit  of  it,  make  it  the  measure  of 
things  which  are  utterly  foreign  to  it,  and  are  startled 
and  despond  if  it  happens  to  fail  them.  They  are 
ever  in  alarm  or  in  transport.  Those,  on  the  other 
hand,  who  have  no  object  or  principle  whatever  to 
hold  by,  lose  their  way,  every  step  they  take.  They 
are  thrown  out,  and  do  not  know  what  to  think  or 
say,  at  every  fresh  juncture ;  they  have  no  view  of 
persons,  or  occurrences,  or  facts,  which  come  sud- 
denly upon  them,  and  they  hang  upon  the  opinion 
of  others  for  want  of  internal  resources.  But  the 
intellect,  which  has  been  disciplined  to  the  perfection 
of  its  powers,  which  knows,  and  thinks  while  it 
knows,  which  has  learned  to  leaven  the  dense  mass 
of  facts  and  events  with  the  elastic  force  of  reason, 
such  an  intellect  cannot  be  partial,  cannot  be  exclu- 
sive, cannot  be  impetuous,  cannot  be  at  a  loss,  can- 
not but  be  patient,  collected,  and  majestically  calm, 
because  it  discerns  the  end  in  every  beginning,  the 
origin  in  every  end,  the  law  in  every  interruption, 


l68  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

the  limit  in  each  delay ;  because  it  ever  knows  where 
it  stands,  and  how  its  path  lies  from  one  point  to 
another.  It  is  the  Ter/jc^ytuz/os*  of  the  Peripatetic,* 
and  has  the  "  nil*  admirari  "  of  the  Stoic : 

Felix  qui  potuit  rerum  cognoscere  causas, 
Atque  metus  omnes,  et  inexorabile  fatum 
Subjecit  pedibus,  strep itumque  Acherontis  avari. 

There  are  men  who,  when  in  difficulties,  originate 
at  the  moment  vast  ideas  of  dazzling  projects; 
who,  under  the  influence  of  excitement,  are  able  to 
cast  a  light,  almost  as  if  from  inspiration,  on  a  sub- 
ject or  course  of  action  which  comes  before  them; 
who  have  a  sudden  presence  of  mind  equal  to  any 
emergency,  rising  with  the  occasion,  and  an  un- 
daunted magnanimous  bearing,  and  an  energy  and 
keenness  which  is  but  made  intense  by  opposition. 
This  is  genius,  this  is  heroism ;  it  is  the  exhibition 
of  a  natural  gift,  which  no  culture  can  teach,  at 
which  no  Institution  can  aim ;  here,  on  the  contrary, 
we  are  concerned,  not  with  mere  nature,  but  with 
training  and  teaching.  That  perfection  of  Intel- 
lect, which  is  the  result  of  Education,  and  its  beau 
ideal,  to  be  imparted  to  individuals  in  their  respec- 
tive measures,  is  the  clear,  calm,  accurate  vision  and 
comprehension  of  all  things,  as  far  as  the  finite 
mind  can  embrace  them,  each  in  its  place,  and  with 
its  own  characteristics  upon  it.  It  is  almost  pro- 
phetic from  its  knowledge  of  human  nature ;  it  has 
almost  supernatural  charity  from  its  freedom  from 


QUESTIONS  AND   STUDIES  169 

littleness  and  prejudice;  it  has  almost  the  repose 
of  faith,  because  nothing  can  startle  it ;  it  has  almost 
the  beauty  and  harmony  of  heavenly  contemplation, 
so  intimate  is  it  with  the  eternal  order  of  things  and 
the  music  of  the  spheres.  (The  Idea  of  a  Univer- 
sity, pp.  129-137.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  thesis  of  Newman's  discourse,  "  Knowledge 
Viewed  in  Relation  to  Learning,"  in  The  Idea  of 
a  University,  pp.  124-150,  is  that  the  function  of 
a  university  (or  of  a  liberal  education)  is  to  impart 
enlargement  of  mind  or  intellectual  culture.  "  It 
educates  the  intellect  to  reason  well  in  all  matters, 
to  reach  out  towards  truth  and  to  grasp  it." 

Explain  by  aid  of  the  context  the  meaning  of  the 
term  "  knowledge  "  in  §  i.  What  is  the  difference 
in  the  popular  view  between  "  mental  narrowness  " 
and  "  mental  enlargement  "  ( §  i )  ?  State  the 
author's  proposition.  What  is  his  method  of  proof  ? 
Note  his  appeal  to  common  consent  as  to  the  true 
meaning  of  a  certain  term.  What  view  of  mental 
enlargement  does  the  author  insist  upon?  Collate 
the  various  terms  used  by  him  as  equivalents  for 
true  mental  enlightenment  and  false  mental  enlight- 
enment. The  passage  is  concerned  with  the  true 
meaning  of  the  term  "  mental  enlargement  "  or  its 
equivalent  "  intellectual  culture."  Why  not,  then, 
call  the  passage  an  exposition  ? 


I/O  PROSE  TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

What  two  inferences  does  the  author  draw  from 
the  instances  cited  in  §§  3-10?  Which  of  the  two 
is  more  nearly  related  to  his  proposition?  Para- 
phrase briefly  §§  12,  13,  and  14.  What  is  the  point 
or  argumentative  value  of  each  of  the  given  in- 
stances? How  do  these  instances  bear  on  the 
author's  proposition?  Outline  briefly  the  argu- 
ment, starting  with  the  proposition  and  grouping 
under  it  the  proofs  or  reasons. 


XXIII.  THE  SOCIAL  STATE  OF  CATH- 
OLIC COUNTRIES  NO  PREJUDICE  TO 
THE  SANCTITY  OF  THE  CHURCH 

i.  I  CONSIDERED,  in  the  preceding  Lecture,  the 
objection  brought  in  this  day  against  the  Catholic 
Church,  from  the  state  of  the  countries  which  be- 
long to  her.  It  is  urged,  that  they  are  so  far  behind 
the  rest  of  the  world  in  the  arts  and  comforts  of 
life,  in  power  of  political  combination,  in  civil 
economy,  and  the  social  virtues,  in  a  word,  in  all 
that  tends  to  make  this  world  pleasant,  and  the  loss 
of  it  painful,  that  their  religion  cannot  come  from 
above.  I  answered  that,  before  the  argument  could 
be  made  to  tell  against  us,  proof  must  be  furnished, 
not  only  that  the  fact  was  as  stated  (and  I  think  it 
should  be  very  closely  examined),  but  especially 
that  there  is  that  essential  connection  in  the  nature 
of  things  between  true  religion  and  temporal  pros- 
perity, which  the  objection  took  for  granted.  That 
there  is  a  natural  and  ordinary  connection  between 
them  no  one  would  deny ;  but  it  is  one  thing  to  say 
that  prosperity  ought  to  follow  from  religion,  quite 
another  to  say  that  it  must  follow  from  it.  Thus, 
health,  for  instance,  may  be  expected  from  a  habit 
of  regular  exercise;  but  no  one  would  positively 
171 


172  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

deny  the  fact  that  exercise  had  been  taken  in  a  par- 
ticular case,  merely  because  the  patient  gave  signs 
of  an  infirm  and  sickly  state  of  the  body.  And, 
indeed,  there  may  be  particular  and  most  wise  rea- 
sons in  the  scheme  of  Divine  Providence,  whatever 
be  the  legitimate  tendency  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
for  its  being  left,  from  time  to  time,  without  any 
striking  manifestations  of  its  beneficial  action  upon 
the  temporal  interests  of  mankind,  without  the  in- 
fluence of  wealth,  learning,  civil  talent,  or  political 
sagacity;  nay,  as  in  the  days  of  St.  Cyprian*  and 
St.  Augustine,*  with  the  actual  reproach  of  im- 
pairing the  material  resources  and  the  social  great- 
ness of  the  nations  which  embrace  it :  viz.,  in  order 
to  remind  the  Church,  and  to  teach  the  world,  that 
she  needs  no  temporal  recommendations  who  has 
a  heavenly  Protector,  but  can  make  her  way  (as 
they  say)  against  wind  and  tide. 

2.  This,  then,  was  the  subject  I  selected  for  my 
foregoing  Lecture,  and  I  said  there  were  three  rea- 
sons why  the  world  is  no  fit  judge  of  the  work,  or 
the  kind  of  work,  really  done  by  the  Church  in  any 
age:  —  first,  because  the  world's  measure  of  good 
and  scope  of  action  are  so  different  from  those  of 
the  Church,  that  it  judges  as  unfairly  and  as  nar- 
rowly of  the  fruits  of  Catholicism  and  their  value, 
as  the  Caliph*  Omar  might  judge  of  the  use  and  the 
influence  of  literature,  or  rather  indefinitely  more 
so.  The  Church,  though  she  embraces  all  conceiv- 
able virtues  in  her  teaching,  and  every  kind  of  good, 


SOCIAL   STATE  OF   CATHOLIC   COUNTRIES        173 

temporal  as  well  as  spiritual,  in  her  exertions,  does 
not  survey  them  from  the  same  point  of  view,  or 
classify  them  in  the  same  order  as  the  world.  She 
makes  secondary  what  the.  world  considers  indis- 
pensable; she  places  first  what  the  world  does  not 
even  recognize,  or  undervalues,  or  dislikes,  or  thinks 
impossible ;  and  not  being  able,  taking  mankind  as 
it  is  found,  to  do  everything,  she  is  often  obliged  to 
give  up  altogether  what  she  thinks  of  great  indeed, 
but  of  only  secondary  moment,  in  a  particular  age 
or  a  particular  country,  instead  of  effecting  at  all 
risks  that  extirpation  of  social  evils,  which,  in  the 
world's  eyes,  is  so  necessary,  that  it  thinks  nothing 
really  is  done  till  it  is  secured.  Her  base  of  opera- 
tions, from  the  difficulties  of  the  season  or  the  pe- 
riod, is  sometimes  not  broad  enough  to  enable  her 
to  advance  against  crime  as  well  as  against  sin, 
and  to  destroy  barbarism  as  well  as  irreligion.  The 
world,  in  consequence,  thinks,  that  because  she  has 
not  done  the  world's  work,  she  has  not  fulfilled  her 
Master's  purpose ;  and  imputes  to  her  the  enormity 
of  having  put  eternity  before  time. 

3.  And  next,  let  it  be  observed  that  she  has 
undertaken  the  more  difficult  work;  it  is  difficult, 
certainly,  to  enlighten  the  savage,  to  make  him 
peaceable,  orderly,  and  self-denying;  to  persuade 
him  to  dress  like  a  European,  to  make  him.  prefer  a 
feather-bed  to  the  heather  or  the  cave,  and  to  ap- 
preciate the  comforts  of  the  fireside  and  the  tea- 
table  :  but  it  is  indefinitely  more  difficult,  even  with 


174  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

the  supernatural  powers  given  to  the  Church,  to 
make  the  most  refined,  accomplished,  amiable  of 
men,  chaste  or  humble;  to  bring,  not  only  his  out- 
ward actions,  but  his  thoughts,  imaginations,  and 
aims,  into  conformity  to  a  law  which  is  naturally 
distasteful  to  him.  It  is  not  wonderful,  then,  if  the 
Church  does  not  so  much  in  the  Church's  way,  as 
the  world  does  in  the  world's  way.  The  world  has 
nature  as  an  ally,  and  the  Church,  on  the  whole, 
and  as  things  are,  has  nature  as  an  enemy. 

4.  And  lastly,  as  I  have  implied,  her  best  fruit 
is  necessarily  secret:  she  fights  with  the  heart  of 
man ;  her  perpetual  conflict  is  against  the  pride,  the 
impurity,  the  covetousness,  the  envy,  the  cruelty, 
which  never  gets  so  far  as  to  come  to  light ;  which 
she  succeeds  in  strangling  in  its  birth.  From  the 
nature  of  the  case,  she  ever  will  do  more  in  repress- 
ing evil  than  in  creating  good;  moreover,  virtue 
and  sanctity,  even  when  realized,  are  also  in  great 
measure  secret  gifts  known  only  to  God  and  good 
Angels;  for  these,  then,  and  other  reasons,  the 
powers  and  triumphs  of  the  Church  must  be  hid 
from  the  world,  unless  the  doors  of  the  Confessional 
could  be  flung  open,  and  its  whispers  carried  abroad 
on  the  voices  of  the  winds.  Nor  indeed  would  even 
such  disclosures  suffice  for  the  due  comparison  of 
the  Church  with  religions  which  aim  at  no  personal 
self-government,  and  disown  on  principle  examina- 
tion of  conscience  and  confession  of  sin;  but  in 
order  to  our  being  able  to  do  justice  to  that  com- 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  175 

parison,  we  must  wait  for  the  Day  when  the  books 
shall  be  opened  and  the  secrets  of  hearts  shall  be 
disclosed.  For  all  these  reasons,  then,  from  the  pe- 
culiarity, and  the  arduousness,  and  the  secrecy  of 
the  mission  intrusted  to  the  Church,  it  comes  to 
pass  that  the  world  is  led,  at  particular  periods,  to 
think  very  slightly  of  the  Church's  influence  on  so- 
ciety, and  vastly  to  prefer  its  own  methods  and  its 
own  achievements. 

5.  So  much  I  have  already  suggested  towards 
the  consideration  of  a  subject,  to  which  justice  could 
not  really  be  done  except  in  a  very  lengthened  dis- 
quisition, and  by  an  examination  of  matters  which 
lie  beyond  the  range  of  these  Lectures.  If  then 
to-day  I  make  a  second  remark  upon  it,  I  do  so 
only  with  the  object  I  have  kept  before  me  all  along, 
of  smoothing  the  way  into  the  Catholic  Church  for 
those  who  are  already  very  near  the  gate ;  who  have 
reasons  enough,  taken  by  themselves,  for  believing 
her  claims,  but  are  perplexed  and  stopped  by  the 
counter-arguments  which  are  urged  against  her,  or 
at  least  against  their  joining  her.  (Anglican  Diffi- 
culties, vol.  i,  pp.  261-265.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

This  passage  occurs  at  the  beginning  of  Lecture 
IX,  "  The  Religious  State  of  Catholic  Countries  no 
Prejudice  to  the  Sanctity  of  the  Church,"  in  Angli- 
can Difficulties,  vol.  i,  pp.  261-295. 


176  PROSE  TYPES  IN  NEWMAN 

Note  that  the  passage  summarizes  the  whole  of 
Lecture  VIII,  "  Social  State  of  Catholic  Countries 
no  Prejudice  to  the  Sanctity  of  the  Church."  What 
is  the  purpose  of  the  summary  ( §  5 )  ?  Is  the  argu- 
mentation direct  or  indirect  (i.e.,  refutation)  ? 
State  in  your  own  words  the  objection  refuted. 
Frame  a  syllogism  embodying  it.  What  is  the 
author's  proposition?  How  does  he  prove  it? 
Study  the  use  in  the  passage  of  clear-cut  proposi- 
tion; explicit  transition;  summary.  What  sen- 
tence of  §  4  contains  a  summary  of  the  discussion  ? 
Cf.  a  similar  passage  in  Burke's  Speech  on  Concili- 
ation with  the  Colonies,  §  42,  "  Then,  Sir,  from 
these  six  capital  sources,  etc." 

Make  a  brief  of  the  argument,  including  proposi- 
tion and  proofs,  the  latter  hinged  to  the  former  by 
"  for."  What  typical  qualities  of  a  good  argumen- 
tative style  are  exemplified? 


XXIV.    STATES  AND  CONSTITUTIONS 

i.  THE  proposition  I  have  undertaken  to  main- 
tain is  this :  —  That  the  British  Constitution  is  made 
for  a  state  of  peace,  and  not  for  a  state  of  war ;  and 
that  war  tries  it  in  the  same  way,  to  use  a  homely 
illustration,  that  it  tries  a  spoon  to  use  it  for  a  knife, 
or  a  scythe  or  hay-fork  to  make  it  do  the  work  of  a 
spade.  I  expressed  myself  thus  generally,  in  order 
to  give  to  those  who  should  do  me  the  honor  of 
reading  me  the  most  expeditious  insight  into  the 
view  which  I  wished  to  set  before  them.  But,  if  I 
must  speak  accurately,  my  meaning  is  this,  —  that, 
whereas  a  Nation  has  two  aspects,  internal  and  ex- 
ternal, one  as  regards  its  own  members,  and  one  as 
regards  foreigners,  and  whereas  its  government  has 
two  duties,  one  towards  its  subjects,  and  one  towards 
its  allies  or  enemies,  the  British  State  is  great  in  its 
home  department,  which  is  its  primary  object,  for- 
eign affairs  being  its  secondary;  while  France  or 
Russia,  Prussia  or  Austria,  contemplates  in  the  first 
place  foreign  affairs,  and  is  great  in  their  manage- 
ment, and  makes  the  home  department  only  its  sec- 
ond object.  And  further,  that,  if  England  be  great 
abroad,  as  she  is,  it  is  not  so  much  the  State,  as  the 
People  or  Nation,  which  is  the  cause  of  her  being 
177 


178  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

great,  and  that  not  by  means  but  in  spite  of  the 
Constitution,  or,  if  by  means  of  it  in  any  measure, 
clumsily  so  and  circuitously ;  on  the  other  hand, 
that,  if  foreign  powers  are  ever  great  in  the  manage- 
ment of  their  own  people,  and  make  men  of  them, 
this  they  do  in  spite  of  their  polity,  and  rather  by 
the  accidental  qualifications  of  the  individual  ruler; 
pr  if  by  their  polity,  still  with  inconvenience  and 
effort.  Other  explanations  I  may  add  to  the  above 
as  I  proceed,  but  this  is  sufficient  for  the  present. 

2.  Now  I  hope  you  will  have  patience  with  me,  if 
I  begin  by  setting  down  what  I  mean  by  a  State, 
and  by  a  constitution. 

3.  First  of  all,  it  is  plain  that  everyone  has  a 
power  of  his  own  to  act  this  way  or  that,  as  he 
pleases.    And,  as  not  one  or  two,  but  everyone  has 
it,  it  is  equally  plain  that,  if  all  exercised  it  to  the 
full,  at  least  the  stronger  part  of  mankind  would 
always  be  in  conflict  with  each  other,  and  no  one 
would  enjoy  the  benefit  of  it ;  so  that  it  is  the  inter- 
est of  everyone  to  give  up  some  portion  of  his  birth- 
freedom  in  this  or  that  direction,  in  order  to  secure 
more  freedom  on  the  whole ;  exchanging  a  freedom 
which  is  now  large  and  now  narrow,  according  as 
the  accidents  of  his  conflicts  with  others  are  more  or 
less  favorable  to  himself,  for  a  certain  definite  range 
of  freedom  prescribed  and  guaranteed  by  settled 
engagements  or  laws.     In  other  words,  Society  is 
necessary  for  the  well-being  of  human  nature.    The 
result,  aimed  at  and  effected  by  these  mutual  ar- 


STATES  AND   CONSTITUTIONS  179 

rangements,  is  called  a  State  or  Standing;  that  is, 
in  contrast  with  the  appearance  presented  by  a 
people  before  and  apart  from  such  arrangements, 
which  is  not  a  standing,  but  a  chronic  condition  of 
commotion  and  disorder. 

4.  And  next,  as  this  State  or  settlement  of  a 
people  is  brought  about  by  mutual  arrangements, 
that  is,  by  laws  or  rules,  there  is  need,  from  the  na- 
ture of  the  case,  of  some  power  over  and  above  the 
People  itself  to  maintain  and  enforce  them.     This 
living  guardian  of  the  laws  is  called  the  Govern- 
ment, and  a  governing  power  is  thus  involved  in  the 
very  notion  of  Society.     Let  the  Government  be 
suspended,  and  at  once  the  State  is  threatened  with 
dissolution,  which  at  best  is  only  a  matter  of  time. 

5.  A  lively  illustration  in  point  is  furnished  us 
by  a  classical  historian.    When  the  great  Assyrian 
Empire  broke  up,  a  time  of  anarchy  succeeded ;  and, 
little  as  its  late  subjects  liked  its  sway,  they  liked  its 
absence  less.    The  historian  proceeds :  "  There  was 
a  wise  man  among  the  Medes,  called  Deioces.*    This 
Deioces,  aspiring  to  be  tyrant,  did  thus.     He  was 
already  a  man  of  reputation  in  his  own  country,  and 
he  now,  more  than  ever,  practiced  justice.     The 
Medes,  accordingly,  in  his  neighborhood,  seeing  his 
ways,  made  him  their  umpire  in  disputes.    He,  on 
the  other  hand,  having  empire  in  his  eye,  was  up- 
right and  just.    As  he  proceeded  thus,  the  dwellers 
in  other  towns,  who  had  suffered  from  unjust  de- 
cisions, were  glad  to  go  to  him  and  to  plead  their 


l8o  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

causes,  till  at  length  they  went  to  no  one  else. 
Deioces  now  had  the  matter  in  his  own  hands.  Ac- 
cordingly he  would  no  longer  proceed  to  the  judg- 
ment seat,  for  it  was  not  worth  while,  he  said,  to 
neglect  his  private  affairs  for  the  sake  of  the  affairs 
of  others.  When  rapine  and  lawlessness  returned, 
his  friends  said,  '  We  must  appoint  a  King  over 
us ; '  and  then  they  debated  who  it  should  be,  and 
Deioces  was  praised  by  everyone.  So  they  made 
him  their  King;  and  he,  upon  this,  bade  them  to 
build  him  a  house  worthy  of  his  kingly  power,  and 
protect  him  with  guards ;  and  the  Medes  did  so." 

6.  Now  I  have  quoted  this  passage  from  history, 
because  it  carries  us  a  step  further  in  our  investiga- 
tion. It  is  for  the  good  of  the  many  that  the  one 
man,  Deioces,  is  set  up ;  but  who  is  to  keep  him  in 
his  proper  work?  He  puts  down  all  little  tyrants, 
but  what  is  to  hinder  his  becoming  a  greater  tyrant 
than  them  all  ?  This  was  actually  the  case ;  first  the 
Assyrian  tyranny,  then  anarchy,  then  the  tyranny 
of  Deioces.  Thus  the  unfortunate  masses  oscillate 
between  two  opposite  evils,  —  that  of  having  no 
governor,  and  that  of  having  too  much  of  one ;  and 
which  is  the  lesser  of  the  two?  This  was  the  di- 
lemma which  beset  the  Horse*  in  the  fable.  He  was 
in  feud  with  the  Stag,  by  whose  horns  he  was 
driven  from  his  pasture.  The  Man  promised  him 
an  easy  victory,  if  he  would  let  him  mount  him. 
On  his  assenting,  the  Man  bridled  him,  and  vaulted 
on  him,  and  pursued  and  killed  his  enemy;  but, 


STATES  AND   CONSTITUTIONS  l8l 

this  done,  he  would  not  get  off  him.  Now  then  the 
Horse  was  even  worse  off  than  before,  because  he 
had  a  master  to  serve,  instead  of  a  foe  to  combat. 

7.  Here  then  is  the  problem:   the  social  state  is 
necessary  for  man,  but  it  seems  to  contain  in  itself 
the  elements  of  its  own  undoing.     It  requires  a 
power  to  enforce  the  laws,  and  to  rule  the  unruly; 
but  what  law  is  to  control  that  power,  and  to  rule 
the  ruler  ?    According  to  the  common  adage, "  Quis* 
custodiet  ipsos  custodes  ?  "     Who  is  to  hinder  the 
governor  dispensing  with  the  law  in  his  own  favor  ? 
History  shows  us  that  this  problem  is  as  ordinary 
as  it  is  perplexing. 

8.  The  expedient,  by  which  the  state  is  kept  in 
statu*  and  its  ruler  is  ruled,  is  called  its  Constitu- 
tion;   and  this  has  next  to  be  explained.     Now  a 
Constitution  really  is  not  a  mere  code  of  laws,  as 
is  plain  at  once;    for  the  very  problem  is  how  to 
confine  power  within  the  law,  and  in  order  to  the 
maintenance  of  law.     The  ruling  power  can,  and 
may,  overturn  law  and  law-makers,  as  Cromwell* 
did,  by  the  sword  with  which  he  protects  them. 
Acts  of  Parliament,  Magna*  Charta,  the  Bill*  of 
Rights,  the  Reform*  Bill,  none  of  these  are  the  Brit- 
ish Constitution.     What  then  is  conveyed  in  that 
word  ?    I  would  answer  as  follows : 

9.  As  individuals  have  characters  of  their  own, 
so  have  races.     Most  men  have  their  strong  and 
their  weak  points,  and  points  neither  good  nor  bad, 
but  idiosyncratic.    And  so  of  races:   one  is  brave, 


1 82  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

and  sensitive  of  its  honor;  another  romantic;  an- 
other industrious,  or  long  headed,  or  religious.  One 
is  barbarous,  another  civilized.  Moreover,  growing 
out  of  these  varieties,  or  idiosyncrasies,  and  corre- 
sponding to  them,  will  be  found  in  these  several 
races,  and  proper  to  each,  a  certain  assemblage  of 
beliefs,  convictions,  rules,  usages,  traditions,  prov- 
erbs, and  principles;  some  political,  some  social, 
some  moral;  and  these  tending  to  some  definite 
form  of  government,  and  modus  vivendi*  or  pol- 
ity, as  their  natural  scope.  And  this  being  the  case, 
when  a  given  race  has  that  polity  which  is  intended 
for  it  by  nature,  it  is  in  the  same  state  of  repose 
and  contentment  which  an  individual  enjoys  who 
has  the  food,  or  the  comforts,  the  stimulants,  seda- 
tives, or  restoratives,  which  are  suited  to  his  dia- 
thesis* and  his  need.  This  then  is  the  Constitution 
of  a  State:  securing,  as  it  does,  the  national  unity 
by  at  once  strengthening  and  controlling  its  gov- 
erning power.  It  is  something  more  than  law;  it 
is  the  embodiment  of  special  ideas,  ideas  perhaps 
which  have  been  held  by  a  race  for  ages,  which  are 
of  immemorial  usage,  which  have  fixed  themselves 
in  its  innermost  heart,  which  are  in  its  eyes  sacred 
to  it,  and  have  practically  the  force  of  eternal  truths, 
whether  they  be  such  or  not.  These  ideas  are  some- 
times trivial,  and  at  first  sight,  even  absurd :  some- 
times they  are  superstitious,  sometimes  they  are 
great  or  beautiful ;  but  to  those  to  whom  they  be- 
long they  are  first  principles,  watch-words,  common 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  183 

property,  natural  ties,  a  cause  to  fight  for,  an  occa- 
sion of  self-sacrifice.  They  are  the  expressions  of 
some  or  other  sentiment,  —  of  loyalty,  of  order,  of 
duty,  of  honor,  of  faith,  of  justice,  of  glory.  They 
are  the  creative  and  conservative  influences  of  So- 
ciety; they  erect  Nations  into  States,  and  invest 
States  with  Constitutions.  They  inspire  and  sway, 
as  well  as  restrain,  the  ruler  of  a  people,  for  he  him- 
self is  but  one  of  that  people  to  which  they  belong. 
(Who's  to  Blame  in  Discussions  and  Arguments, 
pp.  311-316.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Over  the  pen-name  Catholicus  Newman  in  1855 
addressed  to  the  editor  of  The  Catholic  Standard  a 
series  of  letters  on  the  subject  of  the  Crimean  war. 
The  present  selection  is  Letter  II  of  the  series,  which 
bears  the  caption,  "  Who 's  to  Blame  ? "  The 
author  in  Letter  I  states  his  proposition  thus: 
"  Still,  we  cannot  alter  facts ;  and,  if  the  British 
Constitution  is  admirably  adapted  for  peace,  but 
not  for  war,  which  is  the  proposition  I  shall  support, 
and  which  seems  dawning  on  the  public  mind,  there 
is  a  lesson  contained  in  that  circumstance  which 
demands  our  attention." 

Note  that  the  author  begins  with  a  restatement 
of  his  proposition.  Lawyers  have  said  of  Newman 
that  he  would  have  written  a  "  good  opinion."  Cer- 
tainly he  never  loses  sight  of  the  point  he  starts  out 
to  prove.  "  But,  if  I  must  speak  accurately,  etc." 


184  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

(§  i).  An  instance  of  the  "  explication  "  of  a  prop- 
osition. The  author  develops  the  meaning  of  his 
proposition  without  attempting  as  yet  to  prove  it. 
In  §  3  the  author's  concern  seems  to  be  to  prove  the 
necessity  of  "  society."  How  does  this  help  him  to 
expound  the  term  "  state  "  ?  Indicate  the  steps  by 
which  the  author  passes  from  the  exposition  of  the 
term  "  state  "  to  the  exposition  of  the  term  "  consti- 
tution." Paraphrase  briefly  the  author's  exposition 
of  these  terms.  Is  the  exposition  clear?  Discuss 
the  value  in  argumentation  of  a  clear  understanding 
of  terms. 

Letter  II  does  not  take  the  author  into  his  argu- 
ment proper ;  still,  it  illustrates  finely  certain  initial 
steps  in  argumentation. 


XXV.  "ALL  WHO  TAKE  PART  WITH 
THE  APOSTLE  ARE  ON  THE  WIN- 
NING SIDE" 

i.  REFLECTIONS  such  as  these  would  be  decisive 
even  with  the  boldest  and  most  capable  minds,  but 
for  one  consideration.  In  the  midst  of  our  difficul- 
ties I  have  one  ground  of  hope,  just  one  stay,  but, 
as  I  think,  a  sufficient  one,  which  serves  me  in  the 
stead  of  all  other  argument  whatever,  which  hardens 
me  against  criticism,  which  supports  me  if  I  begin 
to  despond,  and  to  which  I  ever  come  round,  when 
the  question  of  the  possible  and  the  expedient  is 
brought  into  discussion.  It  is  the  decision  of  the 
Holy  See;  St.  Peter  has  spoken,  it  is  he  who  has 
enjoined  that  which  seems  to  us  so  unpromising. 
He  has  spoken,  and  has  a  claim  on  us  to  trust  him. 
He  is  no  recluse,  no  solitary  student,  no  dreamer 
about  the  past,  no  doter  upon  the  dead  and  gone, 
no  projector  of  the  visionary.  He  for  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  has  lived  in  the  world;  he  has  seen  all 
fortunes,  he  has  encountered  all  adversaries,  he  has 
shaped  himself  for  all  emergencies.  If  ever  there 
was  a  power  on  earth  who  had  an  eye  for  the  times, 
who  has  confined  himself  to  the  practicable,  and 
185 


l86  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

has  been  happy  in  his  anticipations,  whose  words 
have  been  facts,  and  whose  commands  prophecies, 
such  is  he  in  the  history  of  ages,  who  sits  from 
generation  to  generation  in  the  Chair  of  the  Apos- 
tles, as  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  and  the  Doctor  of  His 
Church. 

2.  These  are  not  the  words  of  rhetoric,  Gentle- 
men, but  of  history.  All  who  take  part  with  the 
Apostle  are  on  the  winning  side.  He  has  long  since 
given  warrants  for  the  confidence  which  he  claims. 
From  the  first  he  has  looked  through  the  wide  world, 
of  which  he  has  the  burden ;  and,  according  to  the 
need  of  the  day,  and  the  inspirations  of  his  Lord, 
he  has  set  himself  now  to  one  thing,  now  to  another ; 
but  to  all  in  season,  and  to  nothing  in  vain.  He 
came  first  upon  an  age  of  refinement  and  luxury 
like  our  own,  and,  in  spite  of  the  persecutor,  fertile 
in  the  resources  of  his  cruelty,  he  soon  gathered, 
out  of  all  classes  of  society,  the  slave,  the  soldier, 
the  high-born  lady,  and  sophist,  materials  enough 
to  form  a  people  to  his  Master's  honor.  The  sav- 
age* hordes  came  down  in  torrents  from  the  north, 
and  Peter*  went  out  to  meet  them,  and  by  his  very 
eye  he  sobered  them,  and  backed  them  in  their  full 
career.  They  turned  aside  and  flooded  the  whole 
earth,  but  only  to  be  more  surely  civilized  by  him, 
and  to  be  made  ten  times  more  his  children  even 
than  the  older  populations  which  they  had  over- 
whelmed. Lawless  kings  arose,  sagacious  as  the 
Roman,  passionate  as  the  Hun,*  yet  in  him  they 


"  ALL  WHO  TAKE  PART  WITH  THE  APOSTLE  "      187 

found  their  match,  and  were  shattered,  and  he  lived 
on.  The  gates  of  the  earth  were  opened  to  the  east 
and  west,  and  men  poured  out  to  take  possession; 
but  he  went  with  them  by  his  missionaries  to  China, 
to  Mexico,  carried  along  by  zeal  and  charity,  as  far 
as  those  children  of  men  were  led  by  enterprise,  cov- 
etousness,  or  ambition.  Has  he  failed  in  his  suc- 
cesses up  to  this  hour  ?  Did  he,  in  our  fathers'  day, 
fail  in  his  struggle  with  Joseph*  of  Germany  and 
his  confederates,  with  Napoleon,  a  greater  name,  and 
his  dependent  kings  that,  though  in  another  kind  of 
fight,  he  should  fail  in  ours?  What  gray  hairs  are 
on  the  head  of  Judah,*  whose*  youth  is  renewed 
like  the  eagle's,  whose  feet  are  like  the  feet  of  harts, 
and  underneath  the  Everlasting  arms? 

3.  In  the  first  centuries  of  the  Church  all  this 
practical  sagacity  of  Holy  Church  was  mere  matter 
of  faith,  but  every  age,  as  it  has  come,  has  confirmed 
faith  by  actual  sight ;  and  shame  on  us,  if,  with  the 
accumulated  testimony  of  eighteen  centuries,  our 
eyes  are  too  gross  to  see  those  victories  which  the 
Saints  have  ever  seen  by  anticipation.  Least  of  all 
can  we,  the  Catholics  of  islands  which  have  in  the 
cultivation  and  diffusion  of  Knowledge  heretofore 
been  so  singularly  united  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Apostolic  See,  least  of  all  can  we  be  the  men  to  dis- 
trust its  wisdom  and  to  predict  its  failure,  when 
it  sends  us  on  a  similar  mission  now.  I  cannot  for- 
get that,  at  a  time  when  Celt  and  Saxon  were  alike 
savage,  it  was  the  See  of  Peter  that  gave  both  of 


lS8  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

them,  first  faith,  then  civilization;  and  then  again 
bound  them  together  in  one  by  the  seal  of  a  joint 
commission  to  convert  and  illuminate  in  their  turn 
the  pagan  continent.  I  cannot  forget  how  it  was 
from  Rome  that  the  glorious  St.  Patrick*  was  sent 
to  Ireland,  and  did  a  work  so  great  that  he  could 
not  have  a  successor  in  it,  the  sanctity  and  learning 
and  zeal  and  charity  which  followed  on  his  death 
being  but  the  result  of  the  one  impulse  which  he 
gave.  I  cannot  forget  how,  in  no  long  time,  under 
the  fostering  breath  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  a  country 
of  heathen  superstitions  became  the  very  wonder  and 
asylum  of  all  people,  —  the  wonder  by  reason  of 
its  knowledge,  sacred  and  profane,  and  the  asylum 
of  religion,  literature  and  science,  when  chased 
away  from  the  continent  by  the  barbarian  invaders. 
I  recollect  its  hospitality,  freely  accorded  to  the  pil- 
grim; its  volumes  munificently  presented  to  the 
foreign  student ;  and  the  prayers,  the  blessings,  the 
holy  rites,  the  solemn  chants,  which  sanctified  the 
while  both  giver  and  receiver. 

4.  Nor  can  I  forget  either,  how  my  own  England 
had  meanwhile  become  the  solicitude  of  the  same 
unwearied  eye:  how  Augustine  was  sent  to  us  by 
Gregory  ;*  how  he  fainted  in  the  way  at  the  tidings 
of  our  fierceness,  and,  but  for  the  Pope,  would  have 
shrunk  as  from  an  impossible  expedition;  how  he 
was  forced  on  "  in*  fear  and  in  much  trembling," 
until  he  had  achieved  the  conquest  of  the  island  to 
Christ.  Nor,  again,  how  it  came  to  pass  that,  when 


"  ALL  WHO  TAKE  PART  WITH  THE  APOSTLE  "      189 

Augustine  died  and  his  work  slackened,  another* 
Pope,  unwearied  still,  sent  three  saints  from  Rome, 
to  ennoble  and  refine  the  people  Augustine  had  con- 
verted. Three  holy  men  set  out  for  England  to- 
gether, of  different  nations:  Theodore,*  an  Asiatic 
Greek,  from  Tarsus;  Adrian,*  an  African;  Ben- 
nett* alone  a  Saxon,  for  Peter  knows  no  distinction 
of  races  in  his  ecumenical  work.  They  came  with 
theology  and  science  in  their  train ;  with  relics,  with 
pictures,  with  manuscripts  of  the  Holy  Fathers  and 
the  Greek  classics;  and  Theodore  and  Adrian 
founded  schools,  secular  and  monastic,  all  over  Eng- 
land, while  Bennett  brought  to  the  north  the  large 
library  he  had  collected  in  foreign  parts,  and,  with 
plans  and  ornamental  work  from  France,  erected  a 
church  of  stone,  under  the  invocation  of  St.  Peter, 
after  the  Roman  fashion,  "  which,"  says  the  his- 
torian,1 "  he  most  affected.*  I  call  to  mind  how 
St.  Wilfrid,*  St.  John*  of  Beverley,  St.  Bede,  and 
other  saintly  men,  carried  on  the  good  work  in  the 
following  generations,  and  how  from  that  time  forth 
the  two  islands,  England  and  Ireland,  in  a  dark  and 
dreary  age,  were  the  two  lights  of  Christendom, 
and  had  no  claims  on  each  other,  and  no  thought  of 
self,  save  in  the  interchange  of  kind  offices  and  the 
rivalry  of  love. 

5.    O  memorable  time,  when  St.  Aidan*  and  the 
Irish  monks  went  up  to  Lindisfarne*  and  Melrose,* 
and  taught  the  Saxon  youth,  and  when  a  St.  Cuth- 
1  Cressy. 


PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

bert*  and  a  St.  Eata*  repaid  their  charitable  toil! 
O  blessed  days  of  peace  and  confidence,  when  the 
Celtic  Mailduf*  penetrated  to  Malmesbury*  in  the 
south,  which  has  inherited  his  name,  and  founded 
there  the  famous  school  which  gave  birth  to  the 
great  St.  Aldhelm  !*  O  precious  seal  and  testimony 
of.  Gospel  unity,  when,  as  Aldhelm  in  turn  tells  us, 
the  English  went  to  Ireland  "  numerous  as  bees ; " 
when  the  Saxon  St.  Egbert*  and  St.  Willibrod,* 
preachers  to  the  heathen  Frisons,*  made  the  voyage 
to  Ireland  to  prepare  themselves  for  their  work; 
and  when  from  Ireland  went  forth  to  Germany  the 
two  noble  Ewalds,*  Saxons  also,  to  earn  the  crown 
of  martyrdom!  Such  a  period,  indeed,  so  rich  in 
grace,  in  peace,  in  love,  and  in  good  works,  could 
only  last  for  a  season ;  but  even  when  the  light  was 
to  pass  away  from  them,  the  sister  islands  were  des- 
tined, not  to  forfeit,  but  to  transmit  it  together.  The 
time  came  when  the  neighboring  continental  country 
was  in  turn  to  hold  the  mission  which  they  had  exer- 
cised so  long  and  well;  and  when  to  it  they  made 
over  their  honorable  office,  faithful  to  the  alliance 
of  two  hundred  years,  they  made  it  a  joint  act. 
Alcuin*  was  the  pupil  both  of  the  English  and  of 
the  Irish  schools;  and  when  Charlemagne*  would 
revive  science  and  letters  in  his  own  France,  it  was 
Alcuin,  the  representative  both  of  the  Saxon  and  the 
Celt,  who  was  the  chief  of  those  who  went  forth  to 
supply  the  need  of  the  great  Emperor.  Such  was 
the  foundation  of  the  School  of  Paris  from  which, 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  IQI 

in  course  of  centuries,  sprang  the  famous  Univer- 
sity, the  glory  of  the  middle  ages. 

6.  The  past  never  returns ;  the  course  of  events, 
old  in  its  texture,  is  ever  new  in  its  coloring  and  fash- 
ion. England  and  Ireland  are  not  what  they  once 
were,  but  Rome  is  where  it  was,  and  St.  Peter  is  the 
same:  his  zeal,  his  charity,  his  mission,  his  gifts 
are  all  the  same.  He  of  old  made  the  two  islands 
one  by  giving  them  joint  work  of  teaching;  and 
now  surely  he  is  giving  us  a  like  mission,  and  we 
shall  become  one  again,  while  we  zealously  and  lov- 
ingly fulfill  it.  (The  Idea  of  a  University,  pp. 
13-18.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

An  illustration  of  Newman's  fondness  for  histori- 
cal proof.  The  passage,  while  taking  on  the  whole 
the  form  of  narration  or  description,  is  really  argu- 
mentative in  scope.  The  author  has  a  proposition, 
and  he  proves  it  by  an  appeal  to  history.  This  ten- 
dency to  rest  a  contention  on  individual  facts  or 
precedents  is  characteristic  of  Newman,  being  one 
phase  of  what  may  be  called  his  typical  literary 
method,  to  wit,  his  constant  use  of  the  concrete. 

Indicate  the  topic  of  §  I.  How  is  it  amplified? 
Note  the  careful  unity  of  §§  2,  3,  and  4.  State 
their  topic-sentences.  What  is  the  author's  propo- 
sition? How  does  he  prove  it?  Outline  the  argu- 
ment briefly.  Where  does  it  end? 

What  is  the  rhetorical  value  of  the  apostrophes  in 


§  5?  Discuss  the  imaginative  element  in  the  style; 
the  emotional.  What  rhetorical  devices  help  to 
the  force  of  the  style?  Would  you  call  the  style 
eloquent,  and  for  what  reasons? 

Selections  xxi-xxv  illustrate  numerous  methods  and 
devices  of  effective  argumentation.  Thus,  a  clear  state- 
ment of  the  question  at  issue  (xxi),  the  proposition  clearly 
stated  (xxiv,  xxv),  careful  explanation  of  terms  (xxiv), 
refutation  (xxm),  the  syllogism  (xxi),  proof  by  illustra- 
tion (xxn),  proof  by  historical  appeal  (xxv),  explicit  tran- 
sitions (xxn,  xxm),  summary  (xxi,  xxm). 


E.   PERSUASION 

1.  Definition.    Persuasion  is  a  form  of  discourse 
which  seeks  to  influence  or  move  the  human  will. 
To  persuade  another  is  to  induce  him  to  act  one 
way  or  another  or  to  refrain  from  acting  at  all. 
Argumentation  stops  with  conviction.     It  has  no 
further  aim  than  to  make  others  accept  the  truth  of 
the  proposition  it  undertakes  to  prove.    Conviction 
may  result  in  action,  but  with  the  resulting  action, 
argumentation  as  such  has  no  concern.     It  is  the 
business  of  persuasion,  on  the  other  hand,  to  influ- 
ence the  wills  of  others  and  cause  them  to  issue  into 
action.     Some  text-books  treat  persuasion  not  as  a 
distinct  form  of  discourse,  but  as  a  phase  of  argu- 
mentation, calling  it  persuasive  or  impassioned  ar- 
gumentation or  else  oratory.    However,  as  oratory 
in  all  its  phases  connotes  an  attempt,  direct  or  in- 
direct, to  influence  the  human  will,  it  is  best  to  con- 
sider it  as  distinct  from  argumentation,  which,  of 
itself,  seeks  to  influence  the  intellect  and  not  the  will. 

2.  Methods.     Persuasion  attains  or  tries  to  at- 
tain its  object  in  three  ways: 

(a)  By  Appeal  to  the  Intellect,  i.e.,  by  conviction 
193 


194  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

(rational  appeal).  To  secure  his  hearers'  perse- 
verance in  some  line  of  conduct,  the  preacher  tries 
to  make  them  see  clearly  that  it  is  their  duty  to 
persevere.  Conviction,  when  possible,  and  not  im- 
aginative or  emotional  excitement,  is  the  surest  nat- 
ural guarantee  of  perseverance  in  right  conduct. 

(&)  By  Appeal  to  the  Emotions  (emotional  ap- 
peal). The  passions  of  a  man,  when  worked  upon, 
readily  express  themselves  in  external  action.  Hence 
the  appeal  to  passion  has  always  had  its  recognized 
place  among  the  resources  of  oratory.  Imagination 
and  emotion  standing  in  close  dependence  on  one 
another,  the  latter  is  often  stimulated  by  stimulat- 
ing the  former,  as  in  the  highly-wrought  word- 
pictures  of  the  impassioned  orator. 

(c)  By  Appeal  to  the  Senses.  A  method  seldom 
practicable.  Antony,  with  Caesar's  dead  body  to 
point  to,  could  rouse  the  Roman  mob  to  avenge  the 
Dictator's  death. 

3.  Style.  Force,  the  emotional,  and  elegance, 
the  esthetic  quality  of  style,  combine  to  render  lan- 
guage persuasive,  i.e.,  calculated  to  make  men  act 
as  we  wish  them  to  act.  All  the  charms  of  color 
and  sound  that  language  may  be  made  to  take  on 
are  legitimate  resources  for  the  one  who  uses  per- 
suasion as  a  literary  type. 


XXVI.    AN  APPEAL  TO  THE  LAITY 

i.  THIS,  I  would  say,  Brothers*  of  the  Oratory, 
not  only  to  you,  but,  if  I  had  a  right  to  do  so,  to 
the  Catholics  of  England  generally.  Let  each  stand 
on  his  own  ground;  let  each  approve  himself  in 
his  own  neighborhood ;  if  each  portion  is  defended, 
the  whole  is  secured.  Take  care  of  the  pence  and 
the  pounds  will  take  care  of  themselves.  Let  the 
London  press  alone;  do  not  appeal  to  it;  do  not 
expostulate  with  it,  do  not  flatter  it;  care  not  for 
popular  opinion,  cultivate  local.  And  then  if 
troubled  times  come  on,  and  the  enemy  rages,  and 
his  many  voices  go  forth  from  one  center  all  through 
England,  threatening  and  reviling  us,  and  mutter- 
ing in  his  cowardly  way,  about  brickbats,  bludgeons, 
and  lighted  brands,  why  in  that  case  the  Birming- 
ham people  will  say,  "  Catholics  are,  doubtless,  an 
infamous  set,  and  not  to  be  trusted,  for  the  Times* 
says  so,  and  Exeter  Hall,*  and  the  Prime  Minis- 
ter,* and  the  Bishops  of  the  Establishment;*  and 
such  good  authorities  cannot  be  wrong;  but  some- 
how an  exception  must  certainly  be  made  for  the 
Catholics  of  Birmingham.  They  are  not  like  the 
rest ;  they  are  indeed  a  shocking  set  at  Manchester, 
Preston,*  Blackburn,*  and  Liverpool;  but,  how- 
195 


196  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

ever  you  account  for  it,  they  are  respectable  men 
here.  Priests  in  general  are  perfect  monsters ;  but 
here  they  are  certainly  unblemished  in  their  lives, 
and  take  great  pains  with  their  people.  Bishops 
are  tyrants,  and,  as  Maria*  Monk  says,  cut-throats, 
always  excepting  the  Bishop  of  Birmingham,  who 
affects  no  state  or  pomp,  is  simple  and  unassuming, 
and  always  in  his  work."  And  in  like  manner,  the 
Manchester  people  will  say,  "  Oh,  certainly,  Pop- 
ery* is  horrible,  and  must  be  kept  down.  Still,  let 
us  give  the  devil  his  due,  they  are  a  remarkably  ex- 
cellent body  of  men  here,  and  we  will  take  care  no 
one  does  them  any  harm.  It  is  very  different  at 
Birmingham;  there  they  will  have  a  Bishop,  and 
that  makes  all  the  difference;  he  is  a  Wolsey*  all 
over;  and  the  priests,  too,  in  Birmingham  are  at 
least  one  in  twelve  infidels.  We  do  not  recollect 
who  ascertained  this,  but  it  was  some  most  respect- 
able man,  who  was  far  too  conscientious  and  too 
charitable  to  slander  anyone."  And  thus,  .  my 
Brothers,  the  charges  against  Catholics  will  become 
a  sort  of  Hunt-the-slipper,*  everywhere  and  no- 
where, and  will  end  in  "  sound*  and  fury,  signify- 
ing nothing." 

2.  Such  is  that  defensive  system,  which  I  think 
is  especially  the  duty  of  Catholics  at  this  moment. 
You  are  attacked  on  many  sides ;  do  not  look  about 
for  friends  on  the  right  hand  or  the  left.  Trust 
neither  Assyria  nor  Egypt;  trust  no  body  of  men. 
Fall  back  on  yourselves,  and  trust  none  but  your- 


AN  APPEAL  TO  THE  LAITY  197 

selves.  I  do  not  mean  you  must  not  be  grate- 
ful to  individuals  who  are  generous  to  you,  but 
beware  of  parties;  all  parties  are  your  enemies; 
beware  of  alliances.  You  are  your  own  best,  and 
sure,  and  sufficient  friends ;  no  one  can  really 
hurt  you  but  yourselves ;  no  one  can  succor  you  but 
yourselves.  Be  content  to  have  your  conscience 
clear,  and  your  God  on  your  side. 

3.  Your  strength  lies  in  your  God  and  your  con- 
science; therefore  it  lies  not  in  your  number.  It 
lies  not  in  your  number  any  more  than  in  intrigue, 
or  combination,  or  worldly  wisdom.  God  saves 
whether  by  many  or  by  few;  you  are  to  aim  at 
showing  forth  His  light,  at  diffusing  "the  sweet* 
odor  of  His  knowledge  in  every  place : "  numbers 
would  not  secure  this.  On  the  contrary,  the  more 
you  grew,  the  more  you  might  be  thrown  back  into 
yourselves,  by  the  increased  animosity  and  jealousy 
of  your  enemies.  You  are  enabled  in  some  measure 
to  mix  with  them  while  you  are  few;  you  might 
be  thrown  back  upon  yourselves,  when  you  became 
many.  The  line  of  demarcation  might  be  more 
strictly  observed;  there  might  be  less  intercourse 
and  less  knowledge.  It  would  be  a  terrible  state  of 
things  to  be  growing  in  material  power,  and  grow- 
ing too  in  a  compulsory  exclusiveness.  Grow  you 
must;  I  know  it;  you  cannot  help  it;  it  is  your 
destiny ;  it  is  the  necessity  of  the  Catholic  name,  it 
is  the  prerogative  of  the  Apostolic  heritage ;  but  a 
material  extension  without  a  corresponding  moral 


198  PROSE  TYPES   IN   NEWMAN 

manifestation,  it  is  almost  awful  to  anticipate;  aw- 
ful, if  there  should  be  the  sun  of  justice  within  you, 
with  so  little  power  to  cast  the  illumination  of  its 
rays  upon  the  multitudes  without.  On  the  other 
hand,  even  if  you  did  not  grow,  you  might  be  able 
to  dispense  on  all  sides  of  you  the  royal  light  of 
Truth,  and  exert  an  august  moral  influence  upon 
the  world.  This  is  what  I  want;  I  do  not  want 
growth,  except  of  course  for  the  sake  of  the  souls 
of  those  who  are  the  increment ;  but  I  want  you  to 
rouse  yourselves.  I  would  aim  primarily  at  organi- 
zation, edification,  cultivation  of  mind,  growth  of 
the  reason.  It  is  a  moral  force,  not  a  material,  which 
will  vindicate  your  profession,  and  will  secure  your 
triumph.  It  is  not  giants  who  do  most.  How  small 
was  the  Holy  Land !  yet  it  subdued  the  world.  How 
poor  a  spot  was  Attica!  yet  it  has  formed  the  in- 
tellect. Moses  was  one,  Elias  was  one,  David 
was  one,  Paul*  was  one,  Athanasius*  was  one, 
Leo*  was  one.  Grace  ever  works  by  few ;  it  is  the 
keen  vision,  the  intense  conviction,  the  indomitable 
resolve  of  the  few,  it  is  the  blood  of  the  martyr,  it  is 
the  prayer  of  the  saint,  it  is  the  heroic  deed,  it  is 
the  momentary  crisis,  it  is  the  concentrated  energy 
of  a  word  or  a  look,  which  is  the  instrument  of 
heaven.  Fear  not,  little  flock,  for  He  is  mighty 
who  is  in  the  midst  of  you,  and  will  do  for  you  great 
things. 

4.    As  troubles  and  trials  circle  round  you,  He 
will    give   you   what    you    want   at    present  —  "a 


AN  APPEAL  TO  THE  LAITY  199 

mouth,*  and  wisdom,  which  all  your  adversaries 
shall  not  be  able  to  resist  and  gainsay."  "  There*  is 
a  time  for  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak ; "  the  time 
for  speaking  is  come.  What  I  desiderate  in  Catho- 
lics is  the  gift  of  bringing  out  what  their  religion  is ; 
it  is  one  of  those  "  better*  gifts  "  of  which  the 
Apostle  bids  you  be  "  zealous."  You  must  not  hide 
your  talent  in  a  napkin,  or  your  light  under  a 
bushel.  I  want  a  laity,  not  arrogant,  not  rash  in 
speech,  not  disputatious,  but  men  who  know  their 
religion,  who  enter  into  it,  who  know  just  where 
they  stand,  who  know  what  they  hold,  and  what  they 
do  not,  who  know  their  creed  so  well  that  they  can 
give  an  account  of  it,  who  know  so  much  of  history 
that  they  can  defend  it.  I  want  an  intelligent,  well- 
instructed  laity;  I  am  not  denying  you  are  such 
already;  but  I  mean  to  be  severe,  and,  as  some 
would  say,  exorbitant  in  my  demands,  I  wish  you 
to  enlarge  your  knowledge,  to  cultivate  your  reason, 
to  get  an  insight  into  the  relation  of  truth  to  truth, 
to  learn  to  view  things  as  they  are,  to  understand 
how  faith  and  reason  stand  to  each  other,  what  are 
the  bases  and  principles  of  Catholicism,  and  where 
lie  the  main  inconsistencies  and  absurdities  of  the 
Protestant  theory.  I  have  no  apprehension  you  will 
be  worse  Catholics  for  familiarity  with  these  sub- 
jects, provided  you  cherish  a  vivid  sense  of  God 
above,  and  keep  in  mind  that  you  have  souls  to  be 
judged  and  to  be  saved.  In  all  times  the  laity  have 
been  the  measure  of  the  Catholic  spirit ;  they  saved 


200  PROSE   TYPES   IN    NEWMAN    ' 

the  Irish  Church  three  centuries  ago,  and  they  be- 
trayed the  Church  of  England.  Our  rulers  were 
true,  our  people  were  cowards.  You  ought  to  be 
able  to  bring  out  what  you  feel  and  what  you  mean, 
as  well  as  to  feel  and  mean  it;  to  expose  to  the 
comprehension  of  others  the  fictions  and  fallacies 
of  your  opponents;  and  to  explain  the  charges 
brought  against  the  Church,  to  the  satisfaction,  not, 
indeed  of  bigots,  but  of  men  of  sense,  of  whatever 
cast  of  opinion.  And  one  immediate  effect  of  your 
being  able  to  do  all  this  will  be  your  gaining  that 
proper  confidence  in  self  which  is  so  necessary  for 
you.  You  will  then  not  even  have  the  temptation 
to  rely  on  others,  to  court  political  parties  or  par- 
ticular men;  they  will  rather  have  to  court  you. 
You  will  no  longer  be  dispirited  or  irritated  (if  such 
is  at  present  the  case),  at  finding  difficulties  in  your 
way,  in  being  called  names,  in  not  being  believed, 
in  being  treated  with  injustice.  You  will  fall  back 
upon  yourselves;  you  will  be  calm,  you  will  be 
patient.  Ignorance  is  the  root  of  all  littleness ;  he 
who  can  realize  the  law  of  moral  conflicts,  and  the 
incoherence  of  falsehood,  and  the  issue  of  perplexi- 
ties, and  the  end  of  all  things,  and  the  Presence  of 
the  Judge,  becomes,  from  the  very  necessity  of  the 
case,  philosophical,  long-suffering,  and  magnani- 
mous. (Lectures  on  the  Present  Position  of  Catho- 
lics in  England,  ix,  pp.  386-391.) 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  2OI 

Questions  and  Studies 

Newman's  Lectures  on  the  Present  Position  of 
Catholics  in  England  were  delivered  in  Birmingham 
in  1852  as  a  rebuke  to  the  outburst  of  bigotry  oc- 
casioned by  the  action  of  Pius  IX  in  restoring  the 
Catholic  hierarchy  in  England. 

Note  the  irony  in  §  i.  Mark,  also,  the  sparing 
use  of  connectives  in  the  entire  passage.  Is  there 
a  reason  for  this  trait  of  style?  Mark  the  direct 
and  earnest  tone.  What  rhetorical  aids  help  to  it? 
What  advantages  result  from  the  use  of  the  first 
person?  Study  the  last  third  of  §  I  for  various 
rhetorical  effects.  "  Moses  was  one,  etc."  A  happy 
instance  of  the  suggestive  power  of  names.  Do  you 
catch  the  significance  of  these  names,  as  being  those 
of  men  who  achieved  a  great  work  single-handed? 

What  substantially  is  the  "  defensive  system  "  in- 
culcated by  Newman  in  §  I  ?  Does  §  2  help  to  ex- 
plain it?  Note  the  argument  in  §  3.  What  is  the 
proposition  and  how  is  it  proved  ? 

Write  a  short  critical  estimate  of  the  style  of  the 
passage  and  of  its  fitness  for  the  author's  purpose. 


XXVII.    REMEMBRANCE  OF  PAST 
MERCIES 

i.  WELL  were  it  for  us,  if  we  had  the  character 
of  mind,  instanced  in  Jacob,  and  enjoined  on  his 
descendants ;  the  temper  of  dependence  upon  God's 
providence,  and  thankfulness  under  it,  and  careful 
memory  of  all  He  has  done  for  us.  It  would  be  well 
if  we  were  in  the  habit  of  looking  at  all  we  have, 
as  God's  gift,  undeservedly  given,  and  day  by  day 
continued  to  us  solely  by  His  mercy.  He  gave; 
He  may  take  away.  He  gave  us  all  we  have,  —  life, 
health,  strength,  reason,  enjoyment,  the  light  of  con- 
science ;  whatever  we  have  good  and  holy  within  us ; 
whatever  faith  we  have;  whatever  of  a  renewed 
will ;  whatever  love  towards  Him ;  whatever  power 
over  ourselves;  whatever  prospect  of  heaven.  He 
gave  us  relatives,  friends,  education,  training, 
knowledge,  the  Bible,  the  Church.  All  comes  from 
Him.  He  gave ;  He  may  take  away.  Did  He  take 
away,  we  should  be  called  on  to  follow  Job's*  pat- 
tern, and  be  resigned :  "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the 
Lord  hath  taken  away.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord."  While  He  continues  His  blessings,  we 
should  follow  David*  and  Jacob,  by  living  in  con- 
stant praise  and  thanksgiving,  and  in  offering  up  to 
Him  of  His  own. 

202 


REMEMBRANCE  OF   PAST   MERCIES  2O3 

2.  We  are  not  our  own,  any  more  than  what  we 
possess  is  our  own.     We  did  not  make  ourselves; 
we  cannot  be  supreme  over  ourselves.    We  cannot 
be  our  own  masters.     We  are  God's  property  by 
creation,  by  redemption,  by  regeneration.    He  has  a 
triple  claim  upon  us.    Is  it  not  our  happiness  thus 
to  view  the  matter?     Is  it  any  happiness,  or  any 
comfort  to  consider  that  we  'are  our  own  ?    It  may 
be  thought  so  by  the  young  and  prosperous.    These 
may  think  it  a  great  thing  to  have  everything,  as 
they  suppose  their  own  way,  —  to  depend  on  no 
one,  —  to  have  to  think  of  nothing  out  of  sight,  — 
to  be  without  the  irksomeness  of  continual  acknowl- 
edgment, continual  prayer,  continual  reference  of 
what  they  do  to  the  will  of  another.     But  as  time 
goes  on,  they,  as  all  men,  will  find  that  independence 
was  not  made  for  man  —  that  it  is  an  unnatural 
state  —  may  do  for  a  while,  but  will  not  carry  us 
on  safely  to  the  end.     No;   we  are  creatures,  and, 
as  being  such,  we  have  two  duties,  to  be  resigned 
and  to  be  thankful. 

3.  Let  us  then  view  God's  providences  towards 
us  more  religiously  than  we  have  hitherto  done. 
Let  us  try  to  gain  a  truer  view  of  what  we  are,  and 
where  we  are,  in  His  kingdom.    Let  us  humbly  and 
reverently  attempt  to  trace  His  guiding  hand  in 
the  years  which  we  have  hitherto  lived.     Let  us 
thankfully  commemorate  the  many  mercies  He  has 
vouchsafed  to  us  in  time  past,  the  many  sins  He  has 
not  remembered,  the  many  dangers  He  has  averted, 


204  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

the  many  prayers  He  has  answered,  the  many  mis- 
takes He  has  corrected,  the  many  warnings,  the 
many  lessons,  the  much  light,  the  abounding  com- 
fort which  He  has  from  time  to  time  given.  Let  us 
dwell  upon  times  and  seasons,  times  of  trouble,  times 
of  joy,  times  of  refreshment.  How  did  He  cherish  us 
as  children !  How  did  He  guide  us  in  that  danger- 
ous time  when  the  mind  began  to  think  for  itself, 
and  the  heart  to  open  to  the  world !  How  did  He 
with  His  sweet  discipline  restrain  our  passions,  mor- 
tify our  hopes,  calm  our  fears,  enliven  our  heavi- 
nesses, sweeten  our  desolateness,  and  strengthen  our 
infirmities!  How  did  He  gently  guide  us  towards 
the  straight  gate;  how  did  He  allure  us  along  His 
everlasting  way,  in  spite  of  its  strictness,  in  spite 
of  its  loneliness,  in  spite  of  the  dim  twilight  in  which 
it  lay !  He  has  been  all  things  to  us.  He  has  been, 
as  He  was  to  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  our 
shield,  and  great  reward,  promising  and  performing, 
day  by  day,  "  Hitherto*  hath  He  helped  us."  "  The* 
Lord  hath  been  mindful  of  us,  and  He  hath  blessed 
us."  He  has  not  made  us  for  nought;  He  has 
brought  us  thus  far,  in  order  to  bring  us  further, 
in  order  to  bring  us  on  to  the  end.  (Parochial  and 
Plain  Sermons,  vol.  v,  sermon  6.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  patriarch  Jacob's  habit  of  'thankfulness  to 
God  for  past  favors  is  enlarged  upon  in  the  body 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  2O5 

of  the  sermon,  the  particular  lesson  of  which  is 
stated  in  the  first  sentence  of  §  i.  How  much  of 
persuasion  or  appeal  is  contained  in  the  concluding 
paragraphs?  To  what  object  or  end  is  the  appeal 
directed?  Is  the  appeal  rational  or  emotional?  If 
rational,  what  motives  for  action  are  alleged  ?  What 
part  in  the  effect  intended  is  played  by  entreaty?  by 
interrogation?  by  exclamation?  Is  the  style  typi- 
cally oratorical?  Is  it  an  appropriate  style  for 
sacred  oratory?  What  differences  do  you  note  be- 
tween the  present  selection  and  Selections  XXVIII 
and  XXIX  with  respect  to  style? 


XXVIII.  GOD'S  WILL  THE  END  OF  LIFE 

i.  THE  end  of  a  thing  is  the  trial.  It  was  our 
Lord's  rejoicing,  in  His  last  solemn  hour,  that  He 
had  done  the  work  for  which  He  was  sent.  "  I* 
have  glorified  Thee  on  earth,"  He  says  in  His 
prayer.  "  I  have  finished  the  work  which  Thou 
gavest  Me  to  do;  I  have  manifested  Thy  Name  to 
the  men  whom  Thou  hast  given  me  out  of  the 
world."  It  was  St.  Paul's  consolation  also ;  "  I* 
have  fought  the  good  fight,  I  have  finished  the 
course,  I  have  kept  the  faith;  henceforth  there  is 
laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  justice,  which  the  Lord 
shall  render  to  me  in  that  day,  the  just  Judge." 
Alas,  alas !  how  different  will  be  our  view  of  things 
when  we  come  to  die,  or  when  we  have  passed  into 
eternity,  from  the  dreams  and  pretenses  with  which 
we  beguile  ourselves  now !  What  will  Babel  do  for 
us  then  ?  will  it  rescue  our  souls  from  the  purgatory 
or  the  hell,  to  which  it  sends  us?  If  we  were  cre- 
ated, it  was  that  we  might  serve  God;  if  we  have 
His  gifts,  it  is  that  we  may  glorify  Him;  if  we 
have  a  conscience,  it  is  that  we  may  obey  it ;  if  we 
have  the  prospect  of  heaven,  it  is  that  we  may  keep 
it  before  us ;  if  we  have  light,  that  we  may  follow 
it;  if  we  have  grace,  that  we  may  save  ourselves 
206 


GOD'S   WILL  THE  END  OF   LIFE  2O7 

by  means  of  it.  Alas,  alas,  for  those  who  die  with- 
out fulfilling  their  mission !  who  were  called  to  be 
holy,  and  lived  in  sin;  who  were  called  to  worship 
Christ,  and  who  plunged  into  this  giddy  and  unbe- 
lieving world;  who  were  called  to  fight,  and  who 
remained  idle;  who  were  called  to  be  Catholics, 
and  remained  in  the  religion  of  their  birth!  Alas 
for  those,  who  have  had  gifts  and  talents,  and  have 
not  used,  or  misused,  or  abused  them;  who  have 
had  wealth,  and  have  spent  it  on  themselves;  or 
who  have  had  abilities,  and  have  advocated  what 
was  sin,  or  ridiculed  what  was  true,  or  scattered 
doubts  against  what  was  sacred ;  or  who  have  had 
leisure,  and  have  wasted  it  on  wicked  companions, 
or  evil  books,  or  foolish  amusements!  Alas  for 
those  of  whom  the  best  that  can  be  said  is,  that  they 
are  harmless  and  naturally  blameless,  while  they 
never  have  attempted  to  cleanse  their  hearts  or  live 
in  God's  sight! 

2.  The  world  goes  on  from  age  to  age,  but  the 
holy  Angels  and  blessed  Saints  are  always  crying 
alas,  alas,  and  woe,  woe,  over  the  loss  of  vocations, 
and  the  disappointments  of  hopes,  and  the  scorn 
of  God's  love,  and  the  ruin  of  souls.  One  genera- 
tion succeeds  another,  and  whenever  they  look  down 
upon  earth  from  their  golden  thrones,  they  see 
scarcely  anything  but  a  multitude  of  guardian  spir- 
its, downcast  and  sad,  each  following  his  own 
charge,  in  anxiety,  or  in  terror,  or  in  despair,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  shield  him  from  the  enemy,  and 


2C>8  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

failing  because  he  will  not  be  shielded.  Times 
come  and  go,  and  man  will  not  believe,  that  that  is 
to  be  which  is  not  yet,  or  that  what  is  now  only  con- 
tinues for  a  season,  and  is  not  eternity.  The  end 
is  the  trial;  the  world  passes;  it  is  but  a  pageant 
and  a  scene,  the  lofty  palace  crumbles,  the  busy  city 
is  mute,  the  ships  of  Tarshish*  have  sped  away.  Qn 
the  heart  and  flesh  death  comes;  the  veil  is  break- 
ing. Departing  soul,  how  hast  thou  used  thy  tal- 
ents, thy  opportunities,  the  light  poured  around 
thee,  the  warning  given  thee,  the  grace  inspired  into 
thee?  O  my  Lord  and  Saviour,  support  me  in  that 
hour  in  the  strong  arms  of  Thy  Sacraments,  and  by 
the  fresh  fragrance  of  Thy  consolations.  Let  the 
absolving  words  be  said  over  me,  and  the  holy  oil 
sign  and  seal  me,  and  Thy  own  Body  be  my  food, 
and  thy  Blood  my  sprinkling;  and  let  sweet  Mary 
breathe  on  me,  and  my  Angel  whisper  peace  to  me, 
and  my  glorious  Saints,  and  my  own  dear  Father 
smile  on  me;  that  in  them  all,  and  through  them 
all,  I  may  receive  the  gift  of  perseverance,  and  die, 
as  I  desire  to  live,  in  Thy  faith,  in  Thy  Church,  in 
Thy  service,  and  in  thy  love.  ( God's  Will  the  End 
of  Life  in  Discourses  Addressed  to  Mixed  Congre- 
gations, pp.  87-91.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

Is  there  appeal  in  §§  i  and  2?    Is  it  direct  or  in- 
direct?   How  does  indirect  appeal  differ  from  di- 


QUESTIONS  AND  STUDIES  2OO, 

rect?  Is  the  appeal  in  the  present  case  effective 
(i.e.,  from  the  standpoint  of  form)  ?  What  is  the 
preacher's  definite  object  in  the  sermon  and  how 
does  he  aim  at  it?  What  is  to  be  said  of  the  final 
prayer  as  a  device  of  sacred  oratory? 

What  impression  does  the  style  make  upon  you? 
Is  it  direct  ?  animated  ?  popular  ?  convincing  ?  De- 
termine what  qualities  of  style  result  from  the  sen- 
tence-forms; from  rhetorical  devices  (parallel  struc- 
ture, interrogation,  exclamation,  etc.).  Study  §  I 
for  balanced  sentences.  What  is  their  effect  ?  Char- 
acterize the  style  of  §  2.  May  the  style  of  the  pas- 
sage be  considered  an  ideal  pulpit  style?  If  so,  for 
what  reasons  ? 


XXIX.     THE  ASSUMPTION 

I.  AND  therefore  she  died  in  private.  It  became 
Him,  who  died  for  the  world,  to  die  in  the  world's 
sight ;  it  became  the  great  Sacrifice  to  be  lifted  up 
on  high,  as  a  light  that  could  not  be  hid.  But  she, 
the  lily  of  Eden,  who  had  always  dwelt  out  of  the 
sight  of  man,  fittingly  did  she  die  in  the  garden's 
shade,  and  amid  the  sweet  flowers  in  which  she 
had  lived.  Her  departure  made  no  noise  in  the 
world.  The  Church  went  about  her  common  duties, 
preaching,  converting,  suffering;  there  were  perse- 
cutions, there  was  fleeing  from  place  to  place,  there 
were  martyrs,  there  were  triumphs;  at  length  the 
rumor  spread  through  Christendom  that  Mary  was 
no  longer  upon  earth.  Pilgrims  went  to  and  fro; 
they  sought  for  her  relics,  but  these  were  not ;  did 
she  die  at  Ephesus?*  or  did  she  die  at  Jerusalem? 
accounts  varied ;  but  her  tomb  could  not  be  pointed 
out,  or,  if  it  was  found,  it  was  open ;  and  instead  of 
her  pure  and  fragrant  body,  there  was  a  growth  of 
lilies  from  the  earth  which  she  had  touched.  So 
inquirers  went  home  marveling,  and  waiting  for 
further  light.  And  then  the  tradition  came,  wafted 
westward  on  the  aromatic  breeze,  how  that  when  the 

210 


THE  ASSUMPTION  211 

time  of  her  dissolution  was  at  hand,  and  her  soul 
was  to  pass  in  triumph  before  the  judgment-seat  of 
her  Son,  the  Apostles  were  suddenly  gathered  to- 
gether in  one  place,  even,  in  the  Holy  City,  to  bear 
part  in  the  joyful  ceremonial ;  how  that  they  buried 
her  with  fitting  rites ;  how  that  the  third  day,  when 
they  came  to  the  tomb,  they  found  it  empty,  and 
angelic  choirs  with  their  glad  voices  were  heard 
singing  day  and  night  the  glories  of  their  risen 
Queen.  But,  however  we  feel  towards  the  details 
of  this  history  (nor  is  there  anything  in  it  which 
will  be  unwelcome  or  difficult  to  piety),  so  much 
cannot  be  doubted,  from  the  consent  of  the  whole 
Catholic  world  and  the  revelations  made  to  holy 
souls,  that,  as  is  befitting,  she  is,  soul  and  body,  with 
her  Son  and  God  in  heaven,  and  that  we  have  to 
celebrate,  not  only  her  death,  but  her  Assumption. 
2.  And  now,  my  dear  brethren,  what  is  befitting 
in  us,  if  all  that  I  have  been  telling  you  is  befitting 
in  Mary?  If  the  Mother  of  Emmanuel*  ought  to 
be  the  first  of  creatures  in  sanctity  and  in  beauty; 
if  it  became  her  to  be  free  from  all  sin  from  the 
very  first,  and  from  the  moment  she  received  her 
first  grace  to  begin  to  merit  more;  and  if  such  as 
was  her  beginning,  such  was  her  end,  her  conception 
immaculate  and  her  death  an  assumption;  if  she 
died,  but  revived,  and  is  exalted  on  high;  what  is 
befitting  in  the  children  of  such  a  Mother  but  an 
imitation,  in  their  measure,  of  her  devotion,  her 
meekness,  her  simplicity,  her  modesty,  and  her 


212  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

sweetness  ?  Her  glories  are  not  only  for  the  sake  of 
her  Son,  they  are  for  our  sake,  also.  Let  us  copy 
her  faith,  who  received  God's  message  by  the  Angel 
without  a  doubt ;  her  patience,  who  endured  St.  Jo- 
seph's surprise  without  a  word ;  her  obedience,  who 
went  up  to  Bethlehem  in  the  winter  and  bore  our 
Lord  in  a  stable;  her  meditative  spirit,  who  pon- 
dered in  her  heart  what  she  saw  and  heard  about 
Him;  her  fortitude,  whose  heart  the  sword  went 
through ;  her  self-surrender,  who  gave  Him  up 
during  His  ministry  and  consented  to  His  death. 

3.  Above  all  let  us  imitate  her  purity,  who,  rather 
than  relinquish  her  virginity,  chose  to  lose  Him  for 
a  Son.  O  my  dear  children,  young  men  and  young 
women,  what  need  have  you  of  the  intercession  of 
the  Virgin-Mother,  of  her  help,  of  her  pattern,  in 
this  respect !  What  shall  bring  you  forward  in  the 
narrow  way,  if  you  live  in  the  world,  but  the  thought 
and  the  patronage  of  Mary!  What  shall  seal  your 
senses,  what  shall  tranquillize  your  heart,  when 
sights  and  sounds  of  danger  are  around  you,  but 
Mary?  What  shall  give  you  patience  and  endur- 
ance, when  you  are  wearied  out  with  the  length  of 
the  conflict  with  evil,  with  the  unceasing  necessity 
of  precautions,  with  the  irksomeness  of  observing 
them,  with  the  tediousness  of  their  repetition,  with 
the  strain  upon  your  mind,  with  your  forlorn  and 
cheerless  condition,  but  a  loving  communion  with 
her?  She  will  comfort  you  in  your  discourage- 
ments, solace  you  in  your  fatigue,  raise  you  after 


THE  ASSUMPTION  213 

your  falls,  reward  you  for  your  successes.  She  will 
show  you  her  Son,  your  God  and  your  all.  When 
your  spirit  within  you  is  excited,  or  relaxed,  or  de- 
pressed, when  it  loses  its  balance,  when  it  is  restless 
and  wayward,  when  it  is  sick  of  what  it  has,  and 
hankers  after  what  it  has  not,  when  your  eye  is  so- 
licited with  evil,  and  your  mortal  frame  trembles 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Tempter,  what  will  bring 
you  to  yourselves,  to  peace  and  to  health,  but  the 
cool  breath  of  the  Immaculate  and  the  fragrance  of 
the  Rose*  of  Saron  ?  It  is  the  boast  of  the  Catholic 
Religion  that  it  has  the  gift  of  making  the  young 
heart  chaste;  and  why  is  this,  but  that  it  gives  us 
Jesus  for  our  food,  and  Mary  for  our  nursing 
Mother  ?  Fulfill  this  boast  in  yourselves ;  prove  to 
the  world  that  you  are  following  no  false  teaching, 
vindicate  the  glory  of  your  Mother  Mary,  whom  the 
world  blasphemes,  in  the  very  face  of  the  world,  by 
the  simplicity  of  your  own  deportment,  and  the 
sanctity  of  your  words  and  deeds.  Go  to  her  for 
the  royal  heart  of  innocence.  She  is  the  beautiful 
gift  of  God,  which  outshines  the  fascinations  of  a 
bad  world,  and  which  no  one  ever  sought  in  sincer- 
ity and  was  disappointed.  "  She*  is  more  precious 
than  all  riches;  and  all  things  that  are  desired  are 
not  to  be  compared  with  her.  Her  ways  are  beauti- 
ful ways,  and  her  paths  are  peace.  She  is  a  tree  of 
life  to  them  that  lay  hold  on  her ;  and  he  that  shall 
retain  her  is  blessed.  As  a  vine  hath  she  brought 
forth  a  pleasant  odor,  and  her  flowers  are  the  fruit 


214  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 

of  honor  and  virtue.  Her  spirit  is  sweeter  than 
honey,  and  her  heritage  than  the  honeycomb.  They 
that  eat  her  shall  yet  be  hungry,  and  they  that  drink 
her  shall  still  thirst.  Whoso  hearkeneth  to  her, 
shall  not  be  confounded,  and  they  that  work  by  her, 
shall  not  sin."  (Fitness  of  the  Glories  of  Mary  in 
Discourses  Addressed  to  Mixed  Congregations,  pp. 
280-282.) 

Questions  and  Studies 

The  structure  of  the  paragraphs  deserves  atten- 
tion. Note  in  each  instance  the  initial  sentence  and 
its  relation  to  the  rest  of  the  paragraph.  "  Fittingly 
did  she  die,  etc."  Contrast  for  effect  with  the  un- 
inverted  order  of  the  same  words.  Study  §  I  for 
prose  cadences  and  general  rhythmic  effects. 

"...  definiteness  of  object  is  in  various  ways 
the  one  virtue  of  the  preacher ;  —  and  this  means 
that  he  should  set  out  with  the  intention  of  con- 
veying to  others  some  spiritual  benefit."  ( Newman 
on  "  University  Preaching  "  in  The  Idea  of  a  Uni- 
versity, p.  412.)  What  is  the  preacher's  definite  ob- 
ject in  this  instance?  Note  the  recapitulation  in 
§  2,  "  If  the  Mother  of  Emmanuel  ought  to  be,  etc." 
What  advantage  do  you  see  in  it?  Discuss  the 
author's  use  of  entreaty;  of  exclamation;  of  in- 
terrogation. "  The  object  of  Persuasion  (in  preach- 
ing) is  the  absolute  determination  of  the  will  to  do 
something  conducive  to  salvation."  (Feeney: 
Manual  of  Sacred  Rhetoric,  p.  263.)  What  is  the 


THE  PARTING  OF  FRIENDS 

"  something  conducive  to  salvation  "  in  the  present 
case?  The  passage  under  consideration  is  the  con- 
clusion of  a  sermon.  As  such  does  it  satisfy  all 
the  demands  of  a  conclusion  in  practical  sacred 
oratory  ? 

XXX.  THE  PARTING  OF  FRIENDS 

AND,  O  my  brethren,  O  kind  and  affectionate 
hearts,  O  loving  friends,  should  you  know  anyone 
whose  lot  it  has  been,  by  writing  or  by  word  of 
mouth,  in  some  degree  to  help  you  thus  to  act;  if 
he  has  ever  told  you  what  you  know  about  your- 
selves, or  what  you  did  not  know ;  has  read  to  you 
your  wants  or  feelings,  and  comforted  you  by  the 
very  reading;  has  made  you  feel  that  there  was  a 
higher  life  than  this  daily  one,  and  a  brighter  world 
than  that  you  see;  or  encouraged  you,  or  sobered 
you,  or  opened  a  way  to  the  inquiring,  or  soothed 
the  perplexed ;  if  what  he  has  said  or  done  has  ever 
made  you  take  interest  in  him,  and  feel  well  inclined 
towards  him  ;  remember  such  a  one  in  time  to  come, 
though  you  hear  him  not,  and  pray  for  him,  that  in 
all  things  he  may  know  God's  will,  and  at  all  times 
he  may  be  ready  to  fulfill  it.  (Sermons  Bearing  on 
Subjects  of  the  Day,  xxvi,  p.  409.) 


2l6  PROSE  TYPES   IN    NEWMAN 


Questions  and  Studies 

The  simple,  earnest  pathos  of  the  appeal  and  the 
unadorned  beauty  of  the  language  in  which  it  is 
made  cannot  fail  to  impress  the  student.  To  what 
is  the  charm  of  the  passage  due?  Newman  can 
secure  the  most  striking  effects  by  the  simplest 
means.  On  what  rhetorical  aids,  if  any,  does  he 
rely  in  the  present  instance? 


TOPICAL  ANALYSES 


A.  NARRATION 

I.  ELEMENTS:    (i)  Time 

(2)  Place 

(3)  Plot 

(4)  Character  (dialogue) 

II.  STRUCTURE:  (i)  Unity  —  relevance  of  details 

(2)  Coherence  —  arrangement      for 

order 

(3)  Emphasis  —  arrangement       for 

effect 

(a)  A  beginning  to  interest 
(6)  Suspense 
(c)  Climax 

III.  STYLE:    Vividness    (picturesqueness,    animation, 
movement,  force)  the  typical  quality 

B.  DESCRIPTION 

I.  PROBLEMS:    (i)  Point  of  view 

(2)  Fundamental  image 

(3)  Effective  selection  of  details 
II.  STRUCTURE:  (i)  Unity  —  relevance  of  details 

(2)  Coherence  —  arrangement    for 

order 

(3)  Emphasis  —  arrangement     for 

effect 
III.  AIM:  Vividness  of  Portrayal.    This  is  secured  by: 

(1)  Concrete  details 

(2)  Suggestive  details 

217 


2l8  PROSE   TYPES    IN    NEWMAN 

(3)  Imagery,  tone-color,  specific 
terms,  and  all  the  picturing 
resources  of  language 

IV.  TYPES:          (i)  Description  by  inventory 

(2)  Description  by  impression 

(3)  Description  by  suggestion 

V.  STYLE:  Vividness  the  typical  quality 

C.  EXPOSITION 

I.  TYPICAL  PROCESSES:   (i)  Definition 

(a)  Scientific 
(6)  Rhetorical  or  de- 
scriptive (ampli- 
fying aids,  e.g., 
illustration,  an- 
tithesis or  con- 
trast, obverse 
statement,  com- 
parison, repeti- 
tion, etc.) 
(2)  Division 

(a)  Scientific 

(b)  Rhetorical 

II.  TYPES:    (i)  Exposition  in  method  (the  essay) 
(2)  Exposition  in  scope  only 

(a)  Expository  description 
(6)  Expository    narration    (the 
fable,   "generalized  nar- 
rative,"   fiction    with    a 
purpose,      interpretative 
history  or  biography) 
III.  STYLE:    Clearness  the  typical  quality 


TOPICAL  ANALYSES 


D.  ARGUMENTATION 

I.  METHODS:    (i)  Argumentation  direct  and  indi- 
rect (refutation) 

(2)  Argumentation  deductive  and  in- 

ductive 

(3)  Argumentation   a   priori   and  a 

posteriori 

(4)  The   syllogism,   enthymeme,    so- 

rites, dilemma,  etc. 
II.  AIDS:  (i)  A  definite  proposition 

(2)  A  clear-cut  plan  or  division  of 

material 

(3)  Explicit  transitions 

(4)  Emphatic  summaries 
III.  STYLE:  Clearness  the  typical  quality 

E.  PERSUASION 

I.  METHODS:  (i)  Appeal  to  the  intellect 

(2)  Appeal   to  the  imagination  and 

emotions 

(3)  Appeal  to  the  senses 

II.  STYLE  :  A  combination  of  force  and  elegance  the 
typical  quality 


GLOSSARY  AND   NOTES 


Adrian,  St.  An  African  monk 
who  accompanied  St.  Theo- 
dore of  Tarsus  into  England. 
Succeeded  St.  Benedict  Bis- 
cop  as  Abbot  of  the  Abbey  of 
St.  Peter  and  Paul  in  Canter- 
bury. Died  710. 

JEgean  (Sea).  An  arm  of  the 
Mediterranean  lying  between 
Greece  on  the  west  and  Asi- 
atic Turkey  on  the  east. 

j9ineas.  Son  of  Anchises  and 
Venus  and  mythical  ancestor 
of  the  Roman  people.  Hero 
of  Vergil's  jEneid. 

Agellius.     See  Callista. 

Aidan,  St.  Irish  monk  of  lona; 
Bishop  of  Lindisfarne  and 
apostle  of  Northumbria.  Died 
651. 

Alcuin  (73S?-8o4).  Anglo- 
Saxon  monk  at  the  court  of 
Charlemagne,  whom  he  aided 
in  promoting  the  great  intel- 
lectual revival  that  marked 
the  Emperor's  reign. 

Aldhelm,  St.  First  bishop  of 
Sherburne  in  England.  Said 
to  have  been  of  the  royal 
family  of  Wessex.  Died  709. 

Alexandria.  An  ancient  city 
and  seaport  of  Egypt  on  the 
Mediterranean  Sea.  Named 
for  Alexander  the  Great,  its 
founder. 

Alfred  (849-901).  Surnamed 
the  Great.  King  of  Wessex 
and  overlord  of  England. 

Ambrose,  St.  (3407-397).  Bish- 
op of  Milan  and  Father  of 


the  Church.  He  baptized  St. 
Augustine. 

Amiens.  A  town  on  the  river 
Somme  in  northeastern 
France. 

ancient  style  of  art,  etc.  (p.  87). 
The  Gothic,  revived  in  Eng- 
land in  the  first  half  of  the 
nineteenth  century  by  A.  W. 
Pugin. 

Animuccia,  Giovanni.  A  mu- 
sician and  composer  of  re- 
pute, musical  director  at  St. 
Peter's  in  Rome  and  bosom 
friend  of  St.  Philip  Neri. 

another  pope,  etc.  (p.  1 89) .  Pope 
St.  Vitalian. 

Anthony,  St.  (25i?-3s6?). 
Egyptian  abbot,  generally 
regarded  as  the  founder  of 
Christian  monasticism. 

Aquitaine.  Formerly  a  political 
division  of  central  and  south- 
ern France.  The  Aquitania 
of  Caesar's  Commentaries. 

Arabs  (p.  71).  The  Kaaba  or 
sacred  stone  of  the  Arabs  is 
preserved  in  the  Great 
Mosque  at  Mecca. 

Arcadia.  A  geographical  divi- 
sion of  ancient  Greece,  noted 
for  the  simple,  rustic  manners 
of  its  inhabitants. 

Aristotle  (384-322  B.  C.).  Greek 
philosopher,  founder  of  the 
Peripatetic  School. 

Armagh.  A  town  and  county 
in  the  Province  of  Ulster, 
Ireland.  The  Archbishop  of 
Armagh  is  Primate  of  the 
Irish  Church. 

asbestos.    A  mineral  substance 


222 


GLOSSARY  AND   NOTES 


unaffected  by  fire.  Shrouds 
made  of  asbestos  cloth  were 
in  use  among  the  Romans. 

Astarte.  A  goddess  of  the 
Syrians  and  Phoenicians,  iden- 
tified with  the  Aphrodite  of 
the  Greeks  and  the  Venus  of 
the  Romans. 

Athanasius,  St.  (296-373).  Pri- 
mate of  Egypt  and  Father  of 
the  Church.  A  resolute  de- 
fender of  orthodox  Christi- 
anity against  the  heresy  of 
Arius,  who  denied  the  divin- 
ity of  Christ. 

Atlas.  A  high  mountain  in 
northern  Africa. 

atrium.  In  a  Roman  house,  a 
large-sized  and  centrally  lo- 
cated room  opening  from  the 
vestibule.  In  the  houses  of 
the  poor  and  the  middle 
classes,  it  served  as  kitchen 
and  sitting-room;  in  those  of 
the  wealthy,  as  a  reception- 
room  for  visiting  friends  and 
clients. 

Attica.  Geographical  and  politi- 
cal division  of  ancient  Greece. 
Its  principal  city,  Athens, 
"  the  eye  of  Greece,"  was  a 
brilliant  center  of  Greek  lit- 
erature and  art. 

augurs.  Roman  soothsayers  or 
diviners,  who  made  predic- 
tions from  the  movements 
and  chirpings  of  birds. 

Augustine,  St.  (p.  87).  Bene- 
dictine monk  sent  by  Pope 
Gregory  the  Great  in  597  to 
convert  the  Anglo-Saxons,  a 
commission  which  he  dis- 
charged with  signal  success. 
Died  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury in  604. 

Augustine,  St.  (354-430)  (p.  172). 
Son  of  St.  Monica  and  Bishop 
of  Hippo  in  Africa.  Con- 
spicuous among  the  Fathers 
of  the  Church  for  his  influ- 
ence on  the  development  of 
Catholic  theology. 


B 


Balaam.  A  sorcerer,  forced  by 
divine  intervention  to  proph- 
esy good  things  of  the  Isra- 
elites after  he  had  been  hired 
by  Balac,  King  of  Moab,  to 
curse  them.  Numbers  xxii- 
xxiv. 

Babylon.  An  ancient  city  on  the 
river  Euphrates,  of  frequent 
mention  in  scriptural  narra- 
tive; capital  of  the  great 
Oriental  monarchy  of  Baby- 
lonia. The  story  of  the 
draining  of  the  bed  of  the 
Euphrates  at  the  capture  of 
the  city  by  the  Persians  under 
Cyrus  (538  B.  c.)  is  told  in 
Herodotus.  The  Tower  of 
Babel  mentioned  in  the  Old 
Testament  (Genesis  xi.),  is 
associated  by  tradition  with 
the  site  of  ancient  Babylon. 

bacchanal.  A  devotee  of  Bac- 
chus; a  noisy,  drunken  reve- 
ler. 

Bacchus.  The  Greek  Dionysos, 
son  of  Jupiter,  god  of  wine 
and  good  cheer.  His  head, 
surmounting  a  term  or  short 
pillar,  was  a  common  artistic 
device. 

Bagradas.  The  modern  Mej- 
erda,  a  river  of  Algeria  and 
Tunis,  having  its  source  in 
the  Atlas. 

Bajazet  I  (1347-1403).  Sultan 
of  the  Turks.  Defeated  by 
Timor  or  Tamerlane  at  An- 
cyra  (402)  and  held  prisoner 
by  him  until  death. 

Banchor  or  Bangor.  A  town, 
twelve  miles  east  of  Belfast, 
in  County  Down,  Ireland; 
seat  of  a  famous  monastery 
destroyed  by  the  Danes. 

Bardeney.  A  town  in  Lincoln- 
shire, northeastern  England. 

Baronius,  Cardinal  (1538-1607). 
Italian  Oratorian,  author  of 
the  Annales  Ecclesiastici  (Ec- 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


223 


clesiastical  Annals),  a  monu- 
mental work  on  Church 
history. 

Basil,  St.  (329-379).  Surnamed 
the  Great.  Bishop  of  Caesarea 
in  Palestine  and  Father  of  the 
Church. 

Basilidians.  Followers  of  Basil- 
ides,  a  second-century  teacher 
of  the  Gnostic  heresy. 

Baths  of  Alexander.  Built  in 
Rome  by  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander Severus. 

beau  ideal.  A  model  or  ideal  of 
excellence. 

Beccafico.  The  garden  warbler, 
a  small  bird  highly  prized  by 
the  Italians  as  a  delicacy  of 
the  table. 

Bede,  St.  (6727-735).  Com- 
monly styled  Venerable.  Ben- 
edictine monk  of  the  Abbey 
of  Jarrow  in  England;  author 
of  a  famous  Ecclesiastical 
History  of  England. 

Benedict,  St.  (480-543).  Foun- 
der at  Monte  Cassino  in 
Italy  of  the  Benedictine 
Order  of  monks,  the  parent 
stem  of  Western  monasti- 
cism. 

Bennett  or  Benedict  Biscop,  St. 
Founder  of  the  abbeys  of 
Wearmouth  and  Jarrow  in 
England.  Died  690. 

Bernard,  St.  (1091-1140). 
Abbot  of  Clairvaux,  a  Cis- 
tercian monastery  near 
Langres  in  France.  Famous 
as  a  preacher,  theologian 
and  hymn-writer.  He  op- 
posed the  errors  of  Abelard 
and  preached  the  Second 
Crusade. 

"  better  gifts  "  (p.  199).  I  Cor- 
inthians xii.  31. 

Bill  of  Rights.  A  celebrated 
English  constitutional  docu- 
ment denning  the  extent  of 
the  King's  prerogative  and  of 
the  powers  of  Parliament, 
which  body  thenceforth  be- 


came the  controlling  element 
in  the  government  of  Eng- 
land (1689). 

Blackburn.  A  city  in  Lanca- 
shire, England. 

Bo  chart,  Samuel  (1599-1667). 
French  orientalist  of  author- 
ity. 

Bordeaux.  A  large  and  im- 
portant town  at  the  mouth 
of  the  river  Garonne  in  south- 
western France. 

Borromeo,  Cardinal  Federigo. 
Archbishop  of  Milan  and 
intimate  friend  of  St.  Philip 
Neri. 

box  (p.  no).  A  small,  snug 
country-house  occupied  tem- 
porarily, e.g.,  for  hunting. 

Boyne.  A  river  in  the  east  of 
Ireland,  flowing  into  the  Irish 
Sea.  Scene  of  the  battle  of 
the  Boyne  (July,  1690). 

Britain.  The  Roman  province 
Britannia,  the  modern  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  and  Wales. 

Brittany.  A  district  in  north- 
western France;  home  of  the 
Bretons. 

bronze  of  JSgina.  The  Greek 
sculptor,  Polycletus,  made 
use  in  his  art  of  the  fine  bronze 
manufactured  in  JEgina.,  an 
island  of  Greece  not  many 
miles  from  Athens. 

Brothers  of  the  Oratory  (p.  195). 
A  lay  association  or  confra- 
ternity affiliated  to  the  Bir- 
mingham Congregation  of  the 
Oratory.  Newman  addressed 
his  Lectures  on  the  Present 
Position  of  Catholics  in  Eng- 
land to  its  members. 

Burgundy.  The  name  succes- 
sively of  a  kingdom,  duke- 
dom, and  province  in  south- 
eastern France. 

"but  what  are  these,  etc." 
(p-  39)-  St.  John  vi.  ix. 

Byron,  Lord  (1788-1824). 
Though  belonging  by  his 
work  to  the  Romantic  school 


224 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


of  English  poets,  he  defended 
the  artificial  poetry  of  Pope 
against  the  attacks  of  cer- 
tain critics  (p.  no). 


Cadiz.  The  ancient  Gades,  a 
city  and  seaport  of  Phoenician 
origin  in  southwestern  Spain. 

Caesar,  Caius  Julius  (too  B.  C.- 
44).  The  most  commanding 
figure  in  Roman  history.  He 
overthrew  the  republic  and 
founded  the  empire. 

Cajetan,  St.  (1480-1547).  A 
native  of  Thienna  in  Italy. 
Founder  of  the  religious  order 
known  as  the  Theatines. 

Caliph  Omar  (p.  172).  Ma- 
homet's second  successor, 
who,  at  the  capture  of  Alex- 
andria in  Egypt,  is  said  to 
have  given  orders  for  the 
burning  of  the  famous  Alex- 
andrian library  on  the  ground 
that  the  Koran  was  the  only 
book  necessary  for  man.  A 
story  of  doubtful  authenticity. 

Callista.  The  incidents  of 
Newman's  Callista  are  placed 
in  Northern  Africa,  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  Decian  per- 
secution in  the  middle  of  the 
third  century.  Callista,  a 
Greek  pagan  girl  and  skilful 
image-maker,  is  the  central 
figure.  Agellius  and  Juba, 
their  mother  Gurta,  a  sor- 
ceress, their  uncle  Jucun- 
dus,  a  staunch  pagan,  and 
St.  Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Car- 
thage, enter  into  the  action. 
Agellius,  a  Christian,  seeks 
the  hand  of  Callista  in  mar- 
riage, but  fails  of  success. 
Some  time  after  St.  Cyprian 
falls  into  the  clutches  of  a 
murderous  mob,  but  is  res- 
cued by  Juba,  who,  though 
once  a  catechumen,  has  never 
practiced  Christianity.  For 


saving  the  Bishop's  life,  he 
is  punished  by  his  mother, 
Gurta,  who  by  a  strange  exer- 
cise of  her  power  renders  him 
a  demoniac;  in  the  end,  how- 
ever, he  recovers  his  senses 
and  dies  a  Christian.  Cal- 
lista, though  not  yet  con- 
verted, is  thrown  into  prison 
on  the  charge  of  being  a 
Christian.  Here  she  is  vis- 
ited by  St.  Cyprian,  who 
admits  her  into  the  Church. 
Her  torture  and  death  for  the 
faith  follow  shortly. 

Cambray.  A  town  in  north- 
eastern France  (French  Flan- 
ders), noted  for  its  fine  linen 
fabrics  called  cambrics. 

Campania.  A  district  in  south- 
ern Italy  of  great  fertility  of 
soil. 

Campus  Martius.  "  The  Field 
of  Mars";  in  ancient  Rome, 
a  low,  semicircular  plain,  in- 
closed by  hills  and  contain- 
ing many  splendid  buildings. 

Capitol.  The  Capitoline  Hill, 
the  most  interesting  historic- 
ally of  the  seven  hills  of  Rome. 
Site  of  the  arx  or  citadel  and 
of  the  temple  of  Jupiter 
Capitolinus. 

Caracalla,  Marcus  Aurelius  An- 
toninus (188-217).  Roman 
Emperor.  He  extended  the 
rights  of  citizenship  to  all  the 
free  inhabitants  of  the  Em- 
pire in  order  to  be  able  to  tax 
their  estates. 

carmen.  Latin  for  "  song  "  or 
"  hymn."  The  Carmen  S»- 
culare  (Secular  Hymn)  was 
sung  at  the  celebration  of  the 
Secular  Games. 

Carthage.  A  city  of  Phoenician 
origin  on  the  northern  coast 
of  Africa.  Under  Hannibal, 
Carthaginian  general,  a  for- 
midable rival  of  Rome. 

cassia.  A  species  of  medicinal 
bark  known  to  the  ancients; 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


225 


perhaps  the  same  as  cassia 
bark  or  cassia  lignea. 

Cham  or  Ham.  One  of  the 
three  sons  of  Noe;  reputed 
progenitor  of  the  so-called 
Hamitic  peoples. 

Charlemagne  (742-814).  Char- 
les the  Great  (Carolus  Mag- 
nus). A  great  Prankish  king 
who  welded  the  kingdoms  of 
western  Europe  into  a  united 
empire.  His  coronation  as 
Emperor  by  Pope  Leo  III 
(800)  marked  the  foundation 
of  the  Holy  Roman  Empire. 

Charles  Borromeo,  St.  (1538- 
1584).  Nephew  of  Pope  Pius 
IV  and  Archbishop  of  Milan. 
A  recognized  model  of  pas- 
toral energy  and  zeal. 

Cheop's  pyramid.  The  great 
pyramid  of  Gizeh,  built  by 
the  Egyptian  king  Cheops  or 
Khufu. 

cicada.  The  tree  cricket,  an 
hemipterous  insect  which 
makes  a  shrill  noise  with  its 
wing-cases. 

Circus.  The  Circus  Maximus, 
the  great  race-course  in  an- 
cient Rome;  so  called  from  its 
circular  form. 

citron-wood  of  Mauretania.  The 
citrus  tree  (thyia  cypressiodes), 
which  grew  on  the  slopes  of 
the  Atlas  in  northern  Africa, 
furnished  a  delicately  veined 
wood,  susceptible  of  high 
polish. 

cloth  of  gold  of  Phrygia.  A 
species  of  rich  cloth  made  in 
Phrygia,  a  province  of  Asia 
Minor,  was  used  by  the  Ro- 
mans for  embroidery  on  arti- 
cles of  dress. 

Cock-a-leekie.  A  Scotch  di- 
minutive from  the  two  ele- 
ments, "  cock  "  and  "  leek  " 
or  onion.  A  cock  or  other  fowl 
boiled  with  leeks  or  onions. 

Colonia  Scillitana.  Also  Scil- 
lium,  an  ancient  town  of 


northern  Africa,  home  of  the 
twelve  Scillitan  martyrs. 

Colonna,  Marco  Antonio  (1535- 
1584).  Member  of  the 
princely  Italian  family  of  the 
Colonnas;  commander  of  the 
Papal  fleet  in  the  battle  of 
Lepanto. 

Column  of  Antoninus.  Erected 
in  Rome  (174)  in  honor  of 
the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius 
Antoninus. 

Connaught.  The  westernmost 
of  the  four  provinces  of  Ire- 
land. 

consummatum  est.  "  It  is  con- 
summated." St.  John  xix. 
30. 

Corfu.  The  ancient  Corcyra, 
the  largest  of  the  Ionian 
Islands,  situated  near  the 
west  coast  of  Greece. 

Corinth,  Gulf  of.  A  large  inlet 
of  the  Mediterranean  cutting 
off  the  Peloponnesus  or  Morea 
from  northern  Greece. 

Corinthian  brass  or  bronze.  Ac- 
cording to  Pliny  composed  of 
copper,  silver,  and  gold.  Said 
to  have  been  more  precious 
than  silver  and  almost  as 
precious  as  gold. 

Cork.  A  city  and  port  on  the 
river  Lee  in  Cork  County,  the 
southernmost  of  the  counties 
of  Ireland. 

coup-d'oeil.  "  A  quick  glance 
of  the  eye." 

Cromwell,  Oliver  (1599-1658). 
Lord  Protector  of  the  Com- 
monwealth of  England,  Scot- 
land, and  Ireland,  a  form  of 
government  set  up  in  Great 
Britain  after  the  Civil  War 
under  Charles  I. 

Croyland  or  Crowland.  A  town 
in  Lincolnshire,  England;  seat 
in  medieval  times  of  a  fine 
Benedictine  Abbey. 

Cuthbert,  St.  Bishop  of  Lin- 
disfarne  in  England.  Died 
687. 


226 


GLOSSARY   AND    NOTES 


Cuthbert  (p.  38).  A  Benedic- 
tine monk,  disciple  of  Vener- 
able Bede. 

Cybele.  The  Greek  Rhea, 
"Mother  of  the  Gods."  A 
Syrian  or  Phrygian  goddess 
whose  worship  was  introduced 
into  Rome. 

Cyprianus,  Thrascius  Csecilius. 
St.  Cyprian,  Bishop  of  Car- 
thage in  Africa  and  Father 
of  the  Church.  Martyred 
258. 

Cyprus.  A  large  island  in  the 
Mediterranean,  sixty  miles 
west  of  the  Syrian  coast. 


David  refused  the  armor,  etc. 

(p.  132).    I  Kings,  xvii.  30. 
David  taking  the  lion,  etc.  (p. 

143).    I  Kings  xvii.  34,  35. 

Dea  Syra.  "  The  Syrian  god- 
dess," i.e.,  Cybele. 

Decius,  Caius  Messius   (200? 
251).     Roman  Emperor,  who 
ordered  the  first  general  per- 
secution   of    the    Christians 

(25°)- 

decurion.  In  the  Roman  Em- 
pire, a  senator  in  a  provincial 
town  or  colony. 

Deipces.  Founder  of  the  Me- 
dian monarchy  in  the  seventh 
century  B.  c.  His  story  is 
told  by  Herodotus  in  the  First 
Book  of  his  History. 

Diana.  The  Greek  Artemis. 
Goddess  of  light*  (the  moon) 
and  of  hunting. 

diathesis.  Any  mental  or  physi- 
cal predisposition. 

Dominic,  St.  (1170-1221).  A 
Spaniard,  founder  of  the 
great  Dominican  Order  of 
Friars.  A  zealous  opponent 
of  the  Albigensian  heresy  in 
France. 

Don  John  of  Austria  (1547- 
1578).  A  Spanish  general, 
half-brother  of  Philip  II  of 


Spain,  through  the  father  of 
both,  the  Emperor  Charles  V. 


E 


Eata,  St.  Bishop  of  Hexham  in 
England.  Died  685. 

Echiniades.  The  present  Cur- 
zolai  Islands,  a  group  situated 
off  the  southwest  .coast  of 
Greece  where  the  river  Ache- 
lous  enters  the  Ionian  Sea. 

Edmund,  St.  King  of  East 
Anglia,  one  of  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  kingdoms  in  England. 
Martyred  by  the  Danes  in 
870. 

Egbert,  St.  Anglo-Saxon  monk 
of  the  eighth  century.  He 
lived  the  greater  part  of  his 
life  in  Ireland. 

Ella.  Northumbrian  king  of 
the  ninth  century.  Put  to 
death  by  the  sons  of  Ragnar 
Lodbrog. 

Ely.  A  town  in  England, 
seventy-two  miles  northeast 
of  London.  The  name  is  said 
to  be  derived  from  the  eels 
which  abound  in  the  neigh- 
borhood. 

Embroidery  of  Babylon.  The 
women  of  Babylon  were 
skilled  embroiderers. 

Emmanuel.  A  Hebrew  word 
meaning  "  God  with  us." 
The  name  is  applied  in  Scrip- 
ture to  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God. 

"  enlighteneth  every  man,  etc." 
(p.  103).  St.  John  i.  9. 

Ephesus.  An  ancient  city  of 
Ionia  in  Asia  Minor,  seat  of 
a  famous  temple  of  Diana. 

Erebus.  In  Graeco-Roman 
mythology,  the  god  of  dark- 
ness; also  the  infernal  re- 
gions. 

Establishment  (p.  194).  The 
Anglican  or  Established 
Church  of  England. 

Ethelbert.    King  of  Kent  at  the 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


227 


time  of  the  arrival  in  England 
of  St.  Augustine,  apostle  of 
the  Anglo-Saxons  (597).. 

Ewalds.  Two  brothers,  disci- 
ples of  St.  Egbert,  who  were 
martyred  by  the  pagan  Sax- 
ons in  Germany,  692. 

Exeter  Hall.  A  building  in  the 
Strand,  London,  used  for  pub- 
lic meetings  and  entertain- 
ments. A  favorite  resort  in 
Newman's  time  for  anti- 
Catholic  orators  and  agitators. 


Felix  qui  potuit,  etc.  (p.  109). 
Vergil,  Georgics  II,  492  et 
seq.  "  Happy  is  he  who  has 
been  able  to  trace  out  the 
causes  of  things,  and  who  has 
cast  beneath  his  feet  all  fears 
and  inexorable  Destiny,  and 
the  noise  of  devouring 
Acheron  "  (Davidson). 

Ferns.  A  town  in  Wexford 
County,  Ireland. 

flamen.  The  name  flamen  was 
applied  to  any  Roman  priest 
devoted  to  the  service  of  a 
particular  god.  Said  to  be  de- 
rived from  the  white  woolen 
band  (filamen)  worn  by  the 
priests  around  their  cap  or 
head. 

Flavian  amphitheater  or  Colos- 
seum. A  great  open-air 
theater  in  Rome,  completed 
by  the  Emperor  Titus  in  the 
year  80;  the  largest  structure 
of  its  kind  in  the  world. 

Fortunes.  Fortuna,  the  Roman 
goddess  of  fortune. 

Francis  de  Sales,  St.  (1567- 
1622).  Bishop  of  Geneva 
and  founder  with  St.  Jane 
Francis  Fremyot  de  Chantal 
of  the  Order  of  the  Visitation. 
His  Introduction  to  a  Devout 
Life  is  a  classic  in  ascetic 
literature. 

Francis  Xavier,  St.  (1506-1552). 


Spanish  Jesuit,  one  of  the 
first  companions  of  St.  Igna- 
tius Loyola,  by  whom  he  was 
sent  to  evangelize  the  Indies. 
Surnamed  Apostle  of  the 
Indies. 

Prisons.  The  ancient  Frisii, 
inhabitants  of  the  modern 
West  Friesland  in  Holland. 


genius  (p.  75).  Among  the 
Romans,  a  tutelary  or  guar- 
dian deity. 

George,  St.  Roman  soldier 
martyred  under  Diocletian 
in  303.  Christian  hero  of  the 
middle  ages  and  patron  saint 
of  England. 

Getulian.  Getulia,  the  country 
of  the  Getuli,  represented  on 
the  map  of  to-day  by  the 
southernmost  part  of  Morocco 
and  a  portion  of  the  Sahara 
desert. 

Gibbon,  Edward  (1737-1794). 
Author  of  The  Decline  and 
Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  an 
historical  work  of  marked 
bias  against  Christianity. 

Giles,  St.  Hermit  and  later 
Abbot,  who  lived  in  France 
in  the  seventh  century. 

glowing  imagery  of  prophets, 
etc.  (p.  107).  The  glories  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Christ  on 
earth  are  vividly  portrayed 
in  the  prophecies  of  Isaias. 

"  God  scourgeth,  etc."  (p.  39). 
Hebrews  xii.  6. 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von 
(1749-1832).  German  poet 
and  prose  writer  of  high  rank. 

gout.  A  French  word  meaning 
"  taste  "  or  "  relish." 

Gozo.  A  small  island  in  the 
Mediterranean  Sea,  three 
miles  from  Malta. 

Grandees  of  Spain.  Grandees 
or  "  the  great  ones,"  a  name 
applied  to  the  highest  rank 


228 


GLOSSARY   AND    NOTES 


of  the  nobflity  of  Castile 
since  the  thirteenth  century. 

Gregory  the  Great,  St.  (540- 
604).  Benedictine  monk  and 
Pope.  He  sent  St.  Augustine 
to  England  to  convert  the 
Anglo-Saxons  (597). 

gull  (p.  15).  Old  English  word 
for  an  unfledged  bird. 

gum  of  Arabia.  Aromatic  gums 
are  among  the  products  of 
southern  Arabia. 

Gurta.     See  Callista. 


Haggis.  A  Scotch  dish  com- 
monly made  of  sheep's  pluck 
mixed  with  onions  and  con- 
diments and  boiled  in  the 
stomach  of  the  same  animal. 

Hainault.  A  province  in  south- 
western Belgium  on  the 
French  frontier. 

harpies.  In  Greek  mythology, 
a  kind  of  rapacious  monsters, 
half  woman,  half  bird,  who 
were  said  to  pollute  whatever 
they  touched. 

haruspices.  A  class  of  sooth- 
sayers or  diviners,  Etruscan 
in  origin,  who  forecast  future 
events  from  the  entrails  of 
birds,  lightning,  etc. 

Heliogabalus  or  Elagabalus. 
A  Syrian  sun-god;  also  the 
name  of  a  Roman  emperor 
who  in  his  youth  was  a  priest 
of  the  god.  A  stone  of  conical 
shape  and  mysterious  prop- 
erties was  used  in  the  wor- 
ship of  Heliogabalus. 

Hercules.  In  Graeco-Roman 
mythology,  the  god  of 
strength,  celebrated  for  his 
twelve  labors  while  on  earth. 
Among  these  .labors  was  the 
slaying  of  a  lion  at  Nemea 
in  Greece. 

Hilarion,  St.  (300-371).  An 
Egyptian  anchorite,  one  of 
the  first  promoters  of  the 


monastic  life,  which  he  in- 
troduced into  Palestine. 

Hippo  Regius.  A  town  in  the 
Roman  province  of  Numidia 
in  Africa;  episcopal  see  of  St. 
Augustine,  the  great  Latin 
Father  of  the  Church. 

"  Hitherto  hath  he  helped  us  " 
(p.  204).  I  Kings  vii.  12. 

Horse  in  the  fable  (p.  180).  One 
of  /Esop's  Fables. 

Hun.  A  barbarous  people  of 
Tartar  stock  who  overran 
Europe  in  the  fifth  century. 
They  met  with  a  decisive 
overthrow  in  the  battle  of 
Chalons  (451). 

Hunt-the-slipper.  An  old- 
fashioned  game  of  pursuit 
once  popular  in  England. 

Hymettus.  A  mountain  range 
of  Greece,  lying  southeast  of 
Athens;  noted  both  in  ancient 
and  modern  times  for  its 
honey  and  its  marble  quarries. 


"  I  have  fought, etc."  (p.  206).  II 
Timothy  iv.  7. 

"  I  have  glorified  Thee,  etc."  (p. 
206).  St.  John  xvii.  4. 

Ignatius  Loyola,  St.  (1491- 
1556).  Spanish  soldier  under 
Charles  V;  later  priest  and 
founder  of  the  Society  of 
Jesus. 

imperator.  Originally  a  Roman 
military  term  for  general  or 
commander-in-chief ;  later  the 
official  title  of  the  rulers  of  the 
Roman  Empire  (Emperor). 

impluvium  (pi.  impluvia).  A 
cistern  or  reservoir  in  or  next 
to  the  atrium  of  a  Roman 
house  to  catch  the  rain  water 
which  was  conveyed  from  the 
compluvium  or  opening  in  the 
roof. 

"  in  fear  and  in  much  trem- 
bling »  (p.  188).  I  Corin- 
thians ii.  3. 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


229 


in  hoc  signo  vinces.  "  In  this 
sign  thou  shalt  conquer." 

in  statu.     "  In  position." 

Ionian.  Ionia;  in  ancient  geog- 
raphy that  portion  of  the 
west  coast-land  of  Asia  Minor 
washed  by  the  easternmost 
waters  of  the  Mediterranean. 

"  It  is  a  dreadful  thing,  etc." 
(p.  38).  Hebrews  x.  31. 


Job.  Patriarch  of  the  Old  Law 
whose  great  patience  and 
resignation  in  seasons  of  trial 
and  adversity  are  recorded 
in  the  Book  of  Job.  "  The 
Lord  gave,"  etc.  Job  i.  21. 

John  of  Beverley,  St.  Bene- 
dictine monk,  Bishop  of  Hex- 
ham  and  afterwards  of  York. 
Died  at  his  monastery  of 
Beverley  in  England  in  724. 

Johnson  in  his  Dictionary,  etc. 
(p.  152).  Samuel  Johnson,  the 
"  Father  of  English  lexicog- 
raphy," brought  out  his  Dic- 
tionary of  the  English  Lan- 
guage in  1755- 

Joseph  of  Germany.  Joseph  II 
(i 741-1 790),  Emperor  of  Ger- 
many. His  policy  of  state 
interference  in  ecclesiastical 
affairs  provoked  rebellion 
among  his  subjects.  Called 
by  Voltaire  "  My  brother,  the 
sacristan." 

Juba.     See  Callista. 

Jucundus.     See  Callista. 

Judah.  Son  of  Jacob;  Hebrew 
patriarch  and  progenitor  of 
the  most  important  of  the 
twelve  tribes  of  Israel. 

judgment-stricken  king,  etc. 
(p.  161).  Pentheus,  King  of 
Thebes,  who  was  torn  to 
pieces  by  votaries  of  Bac- 
chus for  interfering  with  the 
worship  of  that  God.  The 
legend  forms  the  theme  of 
one  of  Euripides'  plays. 


Julian.  Roman  Emperor,  361- 
363.  Surnamed  the  Apostate 
on  account  of  his  abjuring 
Christianity  for  paganism. 

Juno.  The  Greek  Here.  In 
Roman  mythology,  daughter 
of  Saturn,  wife  of  Jupiter  and 
queen  of  the  gods.  "  The 
tile  or  brick  of  Juno  "  (p.  71). 
The  Graeco-Roman  divini- 
ties were  often  represented 
under  conventional  symbols. 

Jupiter.  Son  of  Saturn  and 
principal  deity  in  the  my- 
thology of  the  Romans.  The 
Greek  Zeus. 


khennah  or  henna.  A  thorny 
shrub  or  tree  with  fragrant 
white  blossoms. 

Kildare.  County  and  town  in 
Ireland.  The  town  is  about 
thirty  miles  southwest  of 
Dublin. 

Knights  of  Malta.  Order  of 
Hospitalers  of  St.  John  of 
Jerusalem.  A  religious-mili- 
tary organization,  founded  in 
the  middle  ages  and  existing 
at  the  present  day;  pro- 
prietor at  one  time  of  the 
island  of  Malta. 


large  edifice,  etc.  (p.  87).  St. 
Mary's  College,  Oscott,  Eng- 
land. It  was  here  that  New- 
man preached  his  sermon 
"  The  Second  Spring "  on 
July  13,  1852. 

Laurium.  A  mountainous  range 
in  Attica,  southeastern 
Greece.  Its  silver  and  lead 
mines  were  worked  by  the 
ancients. 

Leo  I,  St.  (3907-461).  Sur- 
named the  Great.  Pope  and 
Father  of  the  Church. 

Lepanto,  Gulf  of.  Also  called 
Gulf  of  Corinth  (q.  v.).  Scene 
of  a  crushing  defeat  of  the 


530 


GLOSSARY  AND  NOTES 


Turks  by  the  Christians  in  a 
naval  battle  (1571). 

Liffey.  A  river  in  the  east  of 
Ireland,  emptying  into  Dub- 
lin Bay. 

"  Lightning  which  shineth,  etc." 
(p.  140).  St.  Matthew  xxiv. 
27. 

Lincolnshire.  A  county  in 
northeastern  England. 

Lindisfarne.  Now  known  as 
Holy  Island;  an  island  on  the 
northeast  coast  of  England, 
the  seat  of  Lindisfarne  Abbey 
and  an  influential  center  of 
Christianity  in  the  middle 
ages. 

lion-skins  of  Getulia.  See 
Getulian. 

litera  scripta.  Lit.  "  the  writ- 
ten letter,"  i.  e.,  writings, 
books. 

little  black  moor,  etc.  (p.  15). 
Gurta  the  sorceress. 

Loire.  The  largest  river  in 
France.  It  flows  westward 
through  the  central  portion 
of  the  country  into  the  Bay 
of  Biscay. 

Louvain.  A  town  fifteen  miles 
northeast  of  Brussels,  in  the 
Province  of  Brabant,  Bel- 
gium. Center  of  the  great 
Catholic  University  of  Lou- 
vain. 

lowly  chapel  in  the  valley  (p. 
86).  Mary  vale,  a  name  given 
by  Newman  to  the  old  Oscott 
College. 

Lucullus,  Lucius  Licinius  (no 
B.  C.-57  B.  C.).  A  successful 
Roman  general.  Also  famous 
for  his  great  wealth  and  dis- 
play of  luxury. 

Lydia.  In  ancient  geography,  a 
kingdom,  with  Sardis  for  cap- 
ital, lying  east  of  Asia  Minor. 

M 

Magna  Charta.  The  "  Great 
Charter,"  a  famous  grant  of 


fundamental  English  liber- 
ties, dating  from  the  time  of 
King  John  (1215). 

Mailduf  or  Meldrum,  St.  An 
Irish  monk,  founder  of  the 
celebrated  Abbey  of  Malmes- 
bury  in  England.  Died 
673. 

Malmesbury.  A  town  in  Wilt- 
shire, England.  See  Mailduf. 

Maria  Monk.  A  woman  of  low 
character  and  pretended  nun 
whose  fictitious  experiences 
were  set  before  the  public  in 
a  book  entitled  Awful  Dis- 
closures of  Maria  Monk  (New 
York,  1836). 

Mars.  The  Roman  god  of  war; 
reputed  founder  of  the  Ro- 
man people  through  Romu- 
lus, his  son. 

Martin,  St.  Bishop  of  Tours 
in  France;  surnamed  the 
Apostle  of  Gaul.  He  was  the 
son  of  a  Hungarian  tribune 
in  the  Roman  army  and  lived 
in  the  fourth  century. 

Mauretania.  Roman  province 
in  northern  Africa  between 
Numidia  and  the  Atlantic. 

Maurus,  St.  Benedictine  monk, 
friend  and  disciple  of  St.  Ben- 
edict. Died  584. 

mausoleum  of  Augustus.  Built 
by  the  Roman  emperor  Au- 
gustus as  a  burial-place  for 
himself  and  his  family. 

melilotus.  "  Honey-lotus."  In 
the  text  (p.  73),  a  sweet  wine 
made  from  a  species  of  the 
lotus  plant.  In  botany,  the 
name  of  a  genus  of  clover- 
like  herbs. 

Melrose.  A  town  in  Scotland, 
once  the  site  of  a  famous 
medieval  abbey,  the  ruins  of 
which  are  described  in  Scott's 
Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel. 

Mendes.  A  town  of  ancient 
Egypt.  According  to  He- 
rodotus, the  name  means 
"  goat,"  under  the  form  of 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


231 


which  animal  the  god  Pan 
was  worshiped  in  Mendes. 

Mercury.  The  Greek  Hermes, 
son  of  Jupiter  and  official 
messenger  of  the  gods.  A 
term  or  short  pillar,  sur- 
mounted by  a  head  of  Mer- 
cury, was  a  favorite  device 
for  representing  the  god. 

Messina.  Next  to  Palermo,  the 
largest  city  in  the  island  of 
Sicily.  Destroyed  in  large 
part  by  the  memorable  earth- 
quake of  December,  1908. 

millenary.  From  the  Latin 
millenarium,  a  period  of  a 
thousand  years. 

Minerva.  An  Italic  deity, 
identified  with  the  Athena  of 
the  Greeks;  goddess  of  wis- 
dom and  of  the  arts,  especi- 
ally weaving  and  spinning. 

Minorca.  One  of  the  Balearic 
Islands,  which  are  situated  in 
the  Mediterranean  Sea,  east 
of  Spain. 

modus  vivendi.  "  A  mode  of 
living ";  a  temporary  ar- 
rangement agreed  to  between 
two  contesting  parties  pend- 
ing the  definite  settlement  of 
the  point  at  issue  by  treaty 
or  other  means.  In  the  text 
(p.  182)  the  word  is  used  in  the 
sense  of  "  polity." 

Moorish  monarch  (p.  33).  Ab- 
derahman,  Caliph  of  Cor- 
dova in  the  ninth  century,  de- 
fended his  country  against  the 
invading  Normans. 

Morea.  The  ancient  Pel- 
oponnesus, a  peninsular  body 
which  forms  the  southern  part 
of  Greece. 

Mosheim,  John  Lorenz  von 
(1694-1755).  German  Prot- 
estant historian,  author  of  an 
Ecclesiastical  History. 

mound  of  Hadrian.  The  moles 
Hadriani,  now  known  as 
Castello  S.  Angelo,  a  massive 
structure  in  Rome  built  by 


the  Emperor  Hadrian  as  a 
tomb  for  himself  and  his  suc- 
cessors. 

"  mouth  and  wisdom,  etc." 
(p.  199).  St.  Luke  xxi.  15. 

mummer.  A  masked  actor  or 
buffoon. 

murena.  A  species  of  eel  in 
favor  among  the  Romans  as 
a  table  delicacy. 

N 

nard  of  Assyria.  Also  called 
spikenard,  a  kind  of  precious 
ointment.  Assyriaque  nardo, 
Horace,  Odes,  II,  16. 

Nativity  of  our  Lady  (p.  7). 
Commemorated  in  the  Cath- 
olic calendar  on  September  7. 

Nero's  golden  house.  A  gorge- 
ous palace  built  in  Rome  by 
the  Emperor  Nero  after  the 
burning  of  the  city  (64). 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac  (1642-1727). 
Celebrated  English  mathe- 
matician and  natural  philoso- 
pher. He  discovered  the 
great  law  of  terrestrial  gravi- 
tation. 

nil  admirari.  "  To  be  aston- 
ished at  nothing."  Motto 
of  the  Stoic  philosophers,  ac- 
cording to  whom  man  should 
show  himself  indifferent  alike 
to  good  fortune  and  to  bad. 

nimbi.  Plural  form  of  nimbus: 
in  modern  art,  a  halo  or 
crown  of  glory  around  the 
head  of  Christ,  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  or  one  of  the  saints. 
Used  in  a  somewhat  different 
sense  in  the  text  (p.  72). 

Nobles  of  Poland.  The  Polish 
nobility  was  noted  for  its  in- 
tense aristocratic  spirit. 

Northmen.  A  name  applied  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Scandi- 
navia, who  in  the  ninth  and 
tenth  centuries  overran  the 
countries  to  the  south. 

Northumbrian.       Northumbria 


232 


GLOSSARY   AND    NOTES 


(i.e.,  the  country  north  of  the 
Humber)  was  the  northern- 
most of  the  early  Saxon  king- 
doms of  England. 

Notas  of  Isidore.  The  "  Notes," 
a  work  of  St.  Isidore  (570?- 
636),  Bishop  of  Seville  in 
Spain  and  Father  of  the 
Church. 

Nottingham.  A  city  in  Notting- 
hamshire, one  of  the  central 
counties  of  England. 

Numidia.  In  Roman  times,  a 
country  or  province  in  north- 
ern Africa  adjoining  Maure- 
tania  on  the  west. 


"  O  King  of  Glory,  etc."  (p.  38). 
Antiphon  of  the  Magnificat 
in  the  Second  Vespers  of 
Ascension  Day. 

"  O  Sapientia,  etc."  (p.  141). 
"  O  wisdom  that  disposeth 
all  things  mightily  and 
sweetly,  O  Adonai,  King  of 
David  and  Expectation  of 
the  Nations,  come  to  save  us, 
O  Lord  our  God."  From  the 
so-called  O  antiphons,  which 
occur  in  the  Divine  Office  for 
the  last  week  of  Advent. 

officium.  Under  the  Roman 
Empire,  a  term  applied, 
among  other  uses,  to  the 
building  or  place  where  court 
was  held  and  governmental 
business  transacted. 

Olympus.  In  ancient  geogra- 
phy, the  name  of  several 
mountains,  the  largest  of 
which,  on  the  borders  of 
Thessaly  and  Macedonia, 
was  fabled  to  be  the  home  of 
the  gods. 

one  of  your  own  order,  etc. 
(p.  86).  John  Milner  (1752- 
1826),  Titular  Bishop  of 
Castalaba  and  Vicar-Apos- 
tolic of  the  Midland  District 
of  England.  Wrote  End  of 


Controversy,  a  well-known 
book  of  Catholic  polemics. 
Coming  as  it  did  before  the 
days  of  Catholic  emancipa- 
tion, his  career  covered  a 
somewhat  gloomy  period  in 
the  history  of  the  Catholic 
Church  in  England. 
Otus.  A  mountain  in  Attica, 
southeastern  Greece. 


Palestrina,  Giovanni  de  (1524- 
1594).  Italian  composer,  re- 
nowned for  his  important  con- 
tributions to  Church  music. 

Pantheon.  A  circular  temple 
at  Rome,  built  27  B.  c.  by 
Agrippa,  son-in-law  of  Au- 
gustus, and  rebuilt  by  Had- 
rian. It  was  dedicated  to  all 
the  gods,  whence  the  name 
Pantheon  (ir6.v8et.ov),  i.e., 
"  temple  of  all  the  gods." 

Paphos.  Paphos,  in  the  island 
of  Cyprus,  was  a  renowned 
center  of  the  worship  of  Aph- 
rodite or  Venus.  In  the 
inner  sanctuary  of  her  temple 
was  an  image  of  the  goddess 
represented  under  the  form 
of  a  cone. 

papyrus  of  Egypt.  The  inner 
bark  of  the  papyrus  plant  of 
Egypt  was  made  by  the  an- 
cients into  a  kind  of  paper. 

Parnes.  A  mountain  of  Greece, 
about  fifteen  miles  north  of 
Athens. 

Patras.  A  fortified  seaport  of 
Greece  on  the  Gulf  of  Patras, 
thirteen  miles  southwest  of 
Lepanto. 

Patrick,  St.  (396-469).  Apostle 
and  patron  saint  of  Ireland. 
He  was  commissioned  by 
Pope  St.  Celestine  to  under- 
take the  conversion  of  the 
pagan  Irish. 

Paul,  St.  The  Apostle  of  the 
Gentiles  and  author  of  most 


GLOSSARY   AND    NOTES 


233 


of  the  epistles  of  the  New 
Testament.  Martyred  with 
St.  Peter  at  Rome  between 
64  and  68. 

pearls  of  Britain.  Pearls  are 
found  in  certain  rivers  of 
Scotland  and  Wales.  Pliny 
and  Tacitus  make  mention 
of  British  pearls. 

Pentelicus.  A  mountain  of 
Greece,  ten  miles  northeast 
of  Athens,  famed  for  its 
quarries  of  pure  white  marble. 

Peripatetic.  A  follower  of 
Aristotle;  probably  so  called 
from  the  circumstance  that 
the  great  philosopher  was  ac- 
customed to  deliver  his  lec- 
tures while  walking  up  and 
down  (TrepiTrarijTiKos,  Trtpiira- 
reiv,  to  walk  about). 

petasus.  A  kind  of  felt  hat 
worn  by  the  Romans. 

Peter  went  out,  etc.  (p.  186). 
Pope  Leo  I,  or  the  Great,  dis- 
suaded Attila,  king  of  the 
Huns,  from  attacking  Rome. 

Peterborough.  A  city  in  North- 
amptonshire, England.  Its 
medieval  cathedral  is  a  fine 
specimen  of  Gothic. 

Philip  Neri,  St.  (1515-1595).  A 
native  of  Florence  in  Italy; 
founder  of  the  Congregation 
of  the  Oratory  of  which  Car- 
dinal Newman  was  a  mem- 
ber. His  piety  was  of  a  pecu- 
liarly sweet  and  winning  type. 

Philip  II  (1527-1598).  King  of 
Spain.  Son  of  the  Emperor 
Charles  V  and  husband  of 
Mary  Tudor.  A  stanch  de- 
fender of  Catholic  interests 
during  the  period  of  the 
Catholic  reaction. 

phoenix.  A  mythical  bird 
fabled  to  rise  triumphant 
from  its  own  ashes.  Hence  a 
symbol  of  immortality.  Name 
also  applied  by  the  Romans 
to  a  certain  rare  species  of 
bird. 


pileus.  Among  the  Romans,  a 
felt  cap  or  hat  emblematic  of 
liberty;  hence  given  to  slaves 
when  they  received  their 
freedom, 

Pius  IV  (Giovanni  Angelo  di 
Medici).  Pope  from  1559  to 
1566.  He  was  the  uncle  of 
St.  Charles  Borromeo,  in 
whose  arms  he  expired. 

Pius  V,  St.  (Michele  Ghisleri). 
Pope  from  1566  to  1572.  A 
Dominican  friar  of  great 
austerity  of  life.  As  Pope  he 
displayed  great  zeal  in  check- 
ing the  progress  of  Protes- 
tantism. 

plagues  of  Egypt.  Exodus 
vii-x. 

plaids  of  Gaul.  From  Caesar's 
time  the  Gauls  were  noted  for 
skill  in  embroidery.  Plaid  is 
a  generic  name  for  a  kind  of 
cloth  with  checkered  pattern. 
Cf.  Dictionary. 

plebs  Siccensis.  "  The  Siccan 
mob." 

Pole,  Cardinal  (1500-1558). 
Grand-nephew  of  Edward  IV 
of  England  through  his 
mother  Margaret,  Countess 
of  Salisbury,  who  was 
martyred  under  Henry  VIII. 
As  Papal  Legate  in  England 
and  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury he  took  an  active  part 
in  the  temporary  reconcilia- 
tion of  England  to  the  Holy 
See  under  Queen  Mary. 

Pompey  (Cneius  Pompeius). 
Member,  with  Caesar  and 
Crassus,  of  the  first  trium- 
virate; overcome  by  Caesar  at 
Pharsalia  (48  B.  C.). 

Pompey's  Pillar.  A  Corinthian 
column  of  red  granite  at 
Alexandria  in  Egypt,  erected 
in  302  in  honor  of  the  Em- 
peror Diocletian.  The  origin 
of  the  name  is  unknown. 

Popery.  A  term  applied  op- 
probriously  by  Protestants 


234 


GLOSSARY   AND    NOTES 


to  the  doctrines  and  practices 
of  the  Catholic  Church. 

prefects.  In  the  Roman  ad- 
ministrative system,  any  high- 
ranking  official  who  had  the 
care  or  management  of  a 
thing  was  called  a  prefect; 
e.g.,  praefectus  urbis,  "  pre- 
fect of  the  city." 

Preston.  A  city  in  Lancashire, 
England;  a  center  of  the 
cotton-spinning  industry. 

Prime  Minister  (p.  195).  Lord 
John  Russell,  Prime  Minister 
of  England,  joined  in  the 
popular  outcry  against  Cath- 
olics occasioned  by  the  re- 
establishment  of  the  Catholic 
hierarchy  of  England  in  1850. 

Prince  of  the  Church  (p.  87). 
Cardinal  Wiseman  (1802- 
1865),  Archbishop  of  West- 
minster and  head  of  the 
Catholic  hierarchy  of  Eng- 
land.- 

proconsuls.  Under  the  Empire 
the  governor  of  a  Roman 
province  was  called  a  pro- 
consul (i.e.,  for  the  consul). 
A  consul,  on  going  out  of 
office,  was  given  the  govern- 
orship of  a  province  or  else 
some  important  military  com- 
mand. 

Ptolemy  (Ptolemaeus).  The 
first  king  of  Egypt  after 
the  death  of  Alexander  the 
Great. 

Punic.  Phoenician;  also  Car- 
thaginian, as  the  people  of 
Carthage  were  of  Phoeni- 
cian origin. 

Pyrrhic.  A  quick-moving  mar- 
tial dance  in  which  the 
various  movements  of  attack 
and  defense  between  two 
combatants  were  imitated. 
Named  after  Pyrrhicus,  its 
inventor. 

Python.  Name  of  a  large  ser- 
pent killed  by  Apollo  near 
Delphi  in  Greece;  hence  also 


applied     to     the     celebrated 
oracle  of  Apollo  at  Delphi. 


Ouis  custodiet  ipsos  custodes. 
"  Who  will  watch  the  watch- 
men? " 

R 

Ragnar  Lodbrpg.  Norse  sea- 
king  and  viking.  Died  at  the 
hands  of  Ella,  King  of  North- 
umbria,  between  862  and  867. 

rationales.  Plural  form  of  ra- 
tionalis  (L.).  Under  the  Ro- 
man Empire,  a  manager  of 
accounts;  a  bookkeeper. 

Reading.  A  town  of  Berkshire, 
England,  thirty-nine  miles 
southwest  of  London. 

Reform  Bill.  A  bill  passed  by 
the  English  Liberals  in  1832 
which  extended  the  electoral 
franchise  and  provided  for  a 
more  equitable  representation 
of  English  towns  and  bor- 
oughs in  Parliament.  Name 
also  applied  to  similar  meas- 
ures passed  in  later  years. 

"  Rejoice  with  me,  for  I  have 
found  my  sheep."  St.  Luke 
xv.  6. 

Ricci,  Flaminio.  Italian  Ora- 
torian,  disciple  of  St.  Philip 
Neri. 

Rose  of  Saron  or  Sharon.  A 
scriptural  plant  identified  by 
some  as  the  autumn  crocus 
and  by  others  as  a  species  of 
narcissus. 

Rouen.  A  city  of  northern 
France,  lying  between  Paris 
and  the  English  Channel. 
Scene  of  the  execution  of 
Joan  of  Arc  by  the  English 
(1413)- 

S 

Saint  upon  whom  lay,  etc. 
(p.  5).  St.  Pius  V,  Pope 
from  1566  to  1572. 


GLOSSARY   AND   NOTES 


235 


Samson  rending  the  lion,  etc. 
(p.  143).  Judges  xiv.  6. 

Samuel's  spirit,  etc.  (p.  104). 
I  Kings  xxviii. 

San  Girolamo  della  Carita.  A 
church  in  Rome,  at  one  time 
the  residence  of  St.  Philip  Neri. 
Girolamo  is  Italian  for  Jerome. 

Saturn.  A  mythical  king  of 
Latium,  identified  with  the 
Greek  Chronos.  His  reign 
was  called  the  Golden  Age, 
because  during  it  men  were 
reputed  to  have  made  ex- 
traordinary progress  in  civili- 
zation and  social  order.  The 
name  Saturn  was  also  given 
to  a  cruel  Phenician  deity  to 
whom  human  sacrifices  were 
offered. 

satyrs.  In  Greek  mythology,  a 
kind  of  demi-god  having 
goats'  feet  and  dwelling  in 
woods  and  forests. 

savage  hordes,  etc.  (p.  186). 
The  invasion  of  the  Roman 
Empire  in  the  fourth  and 
fifth  centuries  by  the  bar- 
barian tribes  of  the  North. 

Savonarola,  Jerome  (.1452- 
1498).  Italian  Dominican 
friar  of  great  eloquence  and 
zeal  for  reform.  Executed  at 
Florence  in  1498. 

scrinia.  Plural  form  of  scrin- 
ium,  a  box  or  chest  for  carry- 
ing articles,  especially  books 
and  documents;  also,  under 
the  Empire,  a  department  or 
bureau  of  the  public  service. 

Secular  Games.  Games  cele- 
brated at  intervals  of  a  cen- 
tury (saeculum)  or  longer 
period.  They  generally  lasted 
three  days  and  nights  and 
consisted  of  theatrical  shows 
and  sports  and  combats  of 
various  kinds. 

Serapis.  The  principal  Egyp- 
tian deity.  His  worship 
was  introduced  among  the 
Greeks  and  Romans. 


Sesostris.  A  mythical  Egyp- 
tian king. 

Severus,  Alexander.  Roman 
Emperor  from  222  to  235. 

Shaftesbury.  Anthony  Ashley 
Cooper,  third  earl  of  Shaftes- 
bury (1671-1713),  author  of 
Characteristics  of  Men,  Man- 
ners, Opinions,  and  Times. 
His  writings  show  a  skeptical 
bias. 

"  she  is  more  precious,  etc." 
(p.  213).  Proverbs  iii.;  Ec- 
clesiasticus  xxiv. 

Sibyl.  In  Roman  mythology,  a 
prophetess  or  fortune  teller; 
especially  a  celebrated  one  at 
Cumae  in  Italy,  who  was  said 
to  have  predicted  the  coming 
of  Christ. 

Sicca  Veneria.  An  ancient 
town  of  Phoenician  origin 
situated  on  the  river  Bag- 
radas  within  the  limits  of  the 
Roman  province  of  Numidia 
in  Africa.  It  derived  its  epi- 
thet Veneria  from  a  temple 
of  Venus,  who  was  worshiped 
here  with  Phoenician  rites. 
Its  site  is  covered  by  the 
modern  town  of  Keff  in 
Algiers. 

silks  of  Persia.  Silk  is  still  the 
staple  product  of  Persia. 

"  solicitude  of  all  the  churches" 
(p.  5).  II  Corinthians  xi.  28. 

"  sound  and  fury,  etc."  Mac- 
beth, Act  V,  Scene  vii. 

Spanish  doublet.  An  upper, 
close-fitting  garment  worn  by 
men  in  western  Europe  from 
the  end  of  the  fifteenth  to  the 
seventeenth  century. 

Speratus,  St.  Martyred,  with 
eleven  companions,  at  Car- 
thage in  1 80. 

subligarium.  A  short  tunic  or 
apron  in  use  among  the 
Romans. 

Sochothbenoth.  Hebrew  for 
"  tents  of  the  daughters." 
iv.  Kings  xvii.  30. 


236 


GLOSSARY  AND  NOTES 


Summa  quies.  "  The  most  per- 
fect quietness."  Newman's 
own  translation. 

Sun  (p.  73).  Apollo,  the 
Phoebus  of  the  Greeks,  was 
one  of  the  many  sun-gods  of 
antiquity. 

Sunian  headland.  The  prom- 
ontory or  headland  of  Sunium 
formed  the  southernmost  part 
of  Attica. 

"  sweet  odor  of  his  knowl- 
edge, etc."  II  Corinthians 
ii.  14. 

Sylla,  L.  Cornelius  (1387-78 
B.  c.).  Roman  dictator  and 
rival  of  Marius. 

symposium.  From  a  Greek 
word  meaning  "  a  drinking 
together ";  a  post-prandial 
drinking  bout;  a  banquet. 

Syrtis.  The  Greater  Syrtis 
(Syrtis  Major)  and  Lesser 
Syrtis  (Syrtis  Minor)  were 
the  ancient  names  of  two 
gulfs  of  the  Mediterranean 
Sea  near  the  present  Tripoli. 


Tacape.  An  ancient  African 
town,  now  Gabes  in  Tripoli. 

Tarshish.  A  locality  of  com- 
mercial importance  frequently 
mentioned  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. Identified  by  some 
with  Cadiz  in  Spain. 

Tauromenian.  Tauromenium, 
the  modern  Taprmina,  a  city 
in  Sicily.  Wine-making  is 
still  a  Sicilian  industry. 

Tertullianist.  A  follower  of 
Tertullian,  a  native  of  Car- 
thage in  Africa;  noted  eccle- 
siastical writer  and  one  of  the 
Latin  Fathers.  In  later 
years  he  fell  into  the  Mon- 
tanist  heresy.  Died  about  230. 

rtrpd-ywcoj.  Greek  word  mean- 
ing literally  "  with  four 
equal  angles,  i.e.,  square  " 
and  figuratively  "  as  perfect 
as  a  square."  Applied  in 


the  figurative  sense  to  the 
"model  man  "  by  Aristotle, 
founder  of  the  Peripatetic 
School  of  philosophy,  in  his 
Nicomachean  Ethics,  bk.  i, 
c.  10. 

that  huge  town,  etc.  (p.  86). 
Birmingham.  St.  Mary's 
College,  Oscott,  where  New- 
man preached  his  sermon 
"  The  Second  Spring,"  is  a 
few  miles  north  of  this  city. 

11  The  Lord  hath  been  mindful, 
etc."  (p.  204).  Psalms  cxiii.  12. 

Thebes.  Name  of  several 
ancient  towns,  one  of  which, 
in  Upper  Egypt,  had  a  hun- 
dred gates. 

Theodore,  St.  A  native  of 
Tarsus  in  Cilicia;  sent  by 
Pope  St.  Vitalian  to  England 
as  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 
Died  690. 

"  their  stench  rose  up,  etc." 
(p.  67).  Joel  ii.  20. 

"  There  is  a  time  for  silence, 
etc."  Ecclesiastes  iii.  7. 

Thomas  Aquinas,  St.  (1224- 
1274).  Surnamed  the  Angelic 
Doctor.  Dominican  friar 
and  authoritative  exponent 
in  his  Summa  Theologice,  of 
the  scholastic  theology  of  the 
middle  ages. 

Times  (p.  195).  The  London 
Times. 

Timor  or  Timour  (1333-1405). 
A  Tartar  conqueror  who 
overran  Central  Asia  and  de- 
feated the  Sultan  Bajazet  at 
Ancyra.  Better  known  to 
English  readers  under  the 
name  Tamerlane. 

Titus  (40-81).  Roman  Em- 
peror of  the  Flavian  line. 

Trajan  (53-117).  Roman  Em- 
peror of  the  Flavian  line. 

triclinium.  The  dining-room  of 
a  Roman  house.  So  called 
from  the  couch  (triklinion) 
on  which  the  Romans  reclined 
when  at  meals. 


GLOSSARY  AND   NOTES 


237 


triduo  or  triduum.  A  space  of 
three  days  devoted  to  special 
prayer  and  religious  services. 

Tritonis.  A  district  in  northern 
Africa  called  in  ancient  times 
the  "  granary  of  Carthage." 

Tyrian  purple.  A  famous  dye 
of  antiquity,  first  known  to 
the  inhabitants  of  Tyre  in 
Phoenicia.  It  was  obtained 
from  the  crushed  bodies  of 
certain  species  of  snails. 


Umbrian.  Umbria,  a  district  of 
northern  Italy. 

University  of  Paris.  Estab- 
lished in  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury by  a  bull  of  the  great 
Pope,  Innocent  III,  and  sup- 
pressed at  the  time  of  the 
French  Revolution. 


Vesta.  Roman  goddess  of  the 
hearth  and  domestic  life. 

Via  Sacra.  The  Sacred  Way,  a 
celebrated  thoroughfare  in 
ancient  Rome  leading  up  to 
the  Capitol. 

vicarii.  Plural  form  of  vicarius 
(L.);  in  the  Roman  admin- 
istrative system,  a  deputy 
official  or  substitute;  a  vicar. 

W 

"waiting  for  the  moving,  etc." 
(p.  140).  St.  John  v.  3. 

Walcheren.  One  of  a  group  of 
islands  off  the  west  coast  of 
Holland,  to  which  country 
they  belong. 

webs  of  Cos.  Finely  woven 
silks  from  the  island  of  Cos 
(or  Kos)  in  the  /Egean  Sea 
were  in  use  among  the  Ro- 
man ladies. 

"  went  every  one  of  them,  etc." 
(p.  in).  Ezechiel  i.  12. 

Wessez.    Kingdom  of  the  West 


Saxons,  whose  king,  Egbert, 
acquired  an  overlordship  over 
the  other  Saxon  kings  of 
England  (827). 

"  what  thou  dpest,  etc."  (p.  139). 
St.  John  xiii.  27. 

whose  youth  is  renewed,  etc. 
(p.  187).  Psalms  cii.  s;  xvii.  34. 

Wilfrid,  St.  Anglo-Saxon  monk 
of  the  Benedictine  Order; 
Bishop  of  York  and  apostle 
of  Sussex  and  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  Died  700. 

Willibrord,  St.  Anglo-Saxon 
monk,  Bishop  of  Utrecht  and 
apostle  of  Friesland.  Died 
739- 

Wolsey,  Thomas  (1471-1530). 
Cardinal  and  prime  minister 
of  Henry  VIII,  whose  dis- 
pleasure he  incurred  over  the 
question  of  the  king's  divorce 
from  Catherine  of  Aragon. 

wool  of  Miletus.  Miletus,  an 
ancient  town  in  Caria,  Asia 
Minor;  its  neighborhood  was 
famed  as  a  sheep-raising 
district. 

words  of  Moses,  etc.  (p.  140). 
Exodus  xxiv.  6-8. 

X 

xysti.  Plural  form  of  zystus 
(L.);  in  Greek  architecture, 
a  long,  open  portico  for  ath- 
letic exercises. 


York.  Capital  city  of  York- 
shire in  northern  England.  Its 
medieval  cathedral  is  one  of 
the  most  splendid  Gothic 
edifices  in  the  world. 


Zazzara,  Francisco.  Friend  of 
St.  Philip  Neri  and  member 
of  his  Congregation  of  the 
Oratory. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  792  259     4 


